


Mirrors

by cakeby_thepound



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Bromance, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Smut, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:42:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 53,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4542015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cakeby_thepound/pseuds/cakeby_thepound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Sequel to Mine] Michonne and Rick have been through a lot, together and apart. In their journey to a better life, they learn that it's okay to lose yourself in the things you love. You find yourself there, too.</p><p>(Richonne. Time Frame: Mid S4 into comic book territory.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. before

**1: before**

"Maggie?" Michonne stood nervously outside of the cell that Glenn and Maggie shared, hoping that she could get her attention without waking the entire cellblock. It was early, and Maggie had been up late, helping Hershel tend to all the sick folks in Cellblock A. Michonne felt like an asshole for even trying to wake her. She gave it one more try with another harsh whisper, "Maggie?"

Soon, she heard the light patter of feet and Maggie appeared in the threshold of her cell, resembling one of the dead they worked so hard to keep out. "Everything okay?" she frowned. After the past couple of days she had, she wasn't sure she could take much more.

"Can I come in for a sec?" Michonne requested. She hated being so forward, but she didn't have much of a choice at the moment.

Maggie looked back to her room, remembering that Glenn was still recovering and the cell was empty. "Sure." She stepped back to allow her friend inside, but was visibly wary about what she could want so early in the morning.

"This is awkward," Michonne started quietly. "And I wouldn't bother you if it weren't important."

"Okay…"

She was hesitant to say this, because it sounded rather creepy without context. But it was all pertinent information. "I know you took a pregnancy test the other day, and—"

"I don't mean to be rude," Maggie cut her off tersely, "but I don't see how that's any of your business."

"It's not," Michonne held up a hand in defense. "I know that. I shouldn't have even said that. But that's the only reason I came to you first." She took a deep breath and looked her friend in the eye. "Do you have any left?"

"Another pregnancy test?" she frowned.

Michonne nodded.

"Oh my gosh." Maggie's green eyes widened in simultaneous confusion and realization. They'd all been gossiping about Rick and Michonne for months now, but figured they hadn't really done anything more than a lot of playful flirting. "You and Rick really are…"

This was the exact reaction Michonne had not been looking forward to. She wished she'd had this inkling when they were at the Big Spot a few days ago and she could've just picked up a test herself. But no, her symptoms were a day late and a dollar short, and she had to pray that someone in the prison – namely, Maggie – would have one on hand.

"Yes," Michonne finally whispered. "Not very recently, but yes."

"Oh my god," she marveled, oblivious to Michonne's growing irritation. She had so many questions for her. How did that even happen? Were they a couple? Were they a secret couple? What was Rick like in bed? It would've been nice to have someone to girl talk with. It seemed that no one else in the prison was getting laid.

"So… is that a no?" Michonne inquired somberly when Maggie hadn't responded.

"Shit, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I think I do have a couple left." She quickly moved to the desk she and Glenn shared, rifling through a drawer full of tampons until she found what she was looking for. "Guess we'll probably need more of these now that all the condoms have dried up," she noted, handing over a package of EPT.

Michonne eyed her as she accepted the contents. She didn't know the results of Maggie's test – she'd only seen her go into the bathroom with it, but a small part of her hoped she was pregnant too, just so she wouldn't have to go through this alone. "Thank you." Michonne turned to immediately head for the restrooms, but stopped in her tracks when she realized that Maggie was behind her. "What are you doing?"

"I'm coming with you…"

"I'm fine."

Maggie looked her in the eye deliberately, letting her know that she wasn't about to back down. "You don't need to do this by yourself."

"I want to."

"You gotta stop this. Stop pushin' people away when all they want is to be there for you."

Michonne frowned at her words, knowing that had been the exact reason she and Rick weren't in a relationship now. She just didn't know how to stop herself. She was a survivor first, and keeping people at a distance was her greatest defense mechanism. "Maggie…"

"Either I come with you, or I go get Rick. But you're not doin' this alone."

The absolute last thing in the world she wanted was for Rick to know about this yet. "Fine. You can come. But you better not say a word," she threatened bitingly. "Not to Glenn, not to anyone."

"I can keep a secret," she promised. She thought of what Rick had told her about Carol the day before and immediately pushed it back down. "Come on."

The two of them entered the bathrooms, making sure they were empty, and Michonne continued into a stall to do what she needed to do. When she reemerged, Maggie offered her a small smile.

"Whatever happens, everything's gonna be okay."

Michonne tried to smile back, though it came out as more of a wince. She had to admit that Maggie's presence was a bit of a comfort. Something in her southern drawl really did make her think it would be all right, whatever the result.

"I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told Glenn. I'm not pregnant, but I could've been. Might even try to be at some point in the near future. There's nothin' wrong with tryin' to have a life here."

Michonne nodded. "It's different for you, though. You're married, you guys  _should_  be trying to have a life."

"You should too, Michonne. I obviously don't know the details of you and Rick's relationship, but I'd be blind not to see how close you've become. Families exist in all forms, 'specially nowadays."

"I know. You're right." She let out a sigh, wondering if two minutes could possibly go by any slower. "How's Glenn doing?"

It was Maggie's turn to sigh. "Considering how close he came to dying last night, he's doing pretty good. I'm gonna head back in there to check on him after this."

"Glad to hear that."

"I didn't thank you, by the way. For goin' on that run for the medicine."

"You don't have to thank me, Maggie. We—"

"I do," she cut her off, accidentally this time. "You risked your life to save Glenn and Sasha and the others. That's worth a thank you."

Michonne accepted her gratitude hesitantly. "Just glad we made it back in time to save at least some of them."

The two of them stood in silence for a while, contemplating everything that had happened. They wondered what the prison would be like, having lost so many people. By the most recent count, at least 17 had passed, including Dr. S., which cut into their growing population significantly.

It was a weird feeling, having felt safe for so many months, only to have it snatched away by the flu. And Michonne felt bad, having not put any real effort into getting to know any of the new people. But this was exactly why. The moment she got comfortable, the moment she felt like happiness, or even the prospect of it, was tangible, it always disappeared right in front of her.

"You might wanna check now," Maggie softly suggested, shaking Michonne from her thoughts.

Michonne turned to the sink, where she'd laid her test, and held the stick unsteadily in her hands. The blue plus sign confirmed what she already knew to be true. She was pregnant.

"Shit," she whispered to herself.

Maggie knew what that meant and gave her a moment to come to terms with what was happening. When she saw the tears streaming down Michonne's face, she moved closer and pulled her into a hug. She was resistant at first, as Maggie knew she would be, but eventually she surrendered to her sobs, and then to the embrace. The two of them stood like that for minutes.

"It's gonna be okay," Maggie whispered again.

Michonne quickly sobered up and pulled away. "Thank you. For doing this with me."

Maggie nodded. "It's no problem."

"You go on back to Glenn," she instructed with one last sniffle. "I'm fine."

She knew she wasn't fine, but Michonne had let her in much further than she ever had before, so she wasn't going to push it. She got her through the hardest part, at least. She gave her friend's hand a tiny squeeze before leaving her alone.

Michonne quietly let herself outside, surveying the courtyard and all its damage. Everything was a mess. Rick and Carl had dispatched an insane amount of walkers the night before, probably saving everyone inside, but a large section of the fences were completely down, and it was a scary thought. There were only so many people that could keep watch now, she wondered what plans the council had for fixing this mess. She accidentally stumbled upon Daryl, who was keeping watch where the breach was.

"What you doin' out here this early?" he wondered, not taking his eyes off of the open fence.

"Couldn't sleep," Michonne shrugged, careful to keep her voice down and her footsteps light. "I can take watch if you want."

"I'm all right."

She could tell he was tired. He'd been working himself to the bone since the sickness had taken over the prison. The only time she'd seen him rest was in the few peaceful moments on their car ride to Peachtree City. "When's the last time you slept?"

"I'm all right," he repeated, a little more roughly this time. "This is my shift. Carol oughta be comin' along soon." Little did either of them know, Carol was gone.

She nodded and decided to leave him to his sworn tasks. She didn't much feel like sitting in the sun anyway. "I'll get started on those bodies then," she offered, referring to the pileup of dead walkers near the cellblock entrance. "Holler if you need a break."

"No time for breaks," he mumbled, almost to himself. "Not now."

She moved on, heading for the truck that she knew had a flatbed attached to the winch. Daryl was right, she thought. It was time to get the house in order.

As the sun got further into the sky, and less bodies littered the ground, Michonne caught sight of Rick emerging from the prison. Her stomach dropped. Her face became hot. She continued her task as if nothing was wrong, but she knew he was headed straight for her.

The pure relief on his face was evident as he approached. Everyone was back at the prison, the flu wasn't going to kill anyone else, and they could get back to keeping the place safe.

He watched Michonne as he walked towards her. The way she moved so effortlessly honestly astounded him sometimes. He knew she would decline but he decided to ask her anyway, "You need some help with that?"

She smiled at him. She knew he knew what her answer would be. "Nah. Do your thing."

In all honesty, she really could've used some assistance, but she simply couldn't bear to have him there with all the shit she had on her mind. It would've been too much. She watched him nod and walk away, wondering what he would've said if he knew.

With a giant sigh, she turned to resume her task, almost shocked to find Hershel standing before her.

He gave her a tender but knowing look, as he so often tended to do, and offered a small piece of advice. "I know it's hard to fathom, especially when life keeps throwing us these curveballs, but it's okay if you love him."

She couldn't take any more lectures about Rick, and what it meant to open yourself up to love and all that jazz. The two of them had decided to be friends, and they were fine with that. Why everyone else wanted to push her any further, she didn't understand. "I know," was all she responded with.

"Life's too short to pretend otherwise is all I'm saying."

"I know this too," she nodded genuinely. She pulled the last body she could fit onto the truck and looked at Hershel expectantly.

"You headin' out?" he questioned, surveying the scene.

"Yeah," she grinned. "You wanna come?"

He thought about this for only a second before deciding. "Hell yeah."

Happily, the two of them hopped into their jeep, headed for the back of the prison, where they took dead walkers to be burned. Rick and Carl crossed their path as she drove by, both of them offering small waves to the passengers in the car. Her eyes locked with Rick's for a little longer than they should have, and her mind went haywire. True realization struck that she was  _pregnant._  Having his baby. There was a life growing inside her that belonged to the two of them.  _Holy shit_ , she thought.

He seemed to recognize that something was on her mind – she was never good at keeping anguish off of her face. But he needed to talk to Daryl about Carol before he delved into whatever was going on with her. "You got any plans for dinner?" he called after the Jeep.

She chuckled quietly, as if she'd have anything to do other than be there. She supposed that would be as good a time as any to tell him the big news. "I'll see you then," she yelled back.

Little did either of them know, their plans would be majorly interrupted.


	2. after

**2: after**

The whole thing had been a blur. She could remember being taken hostage by The Governor and threatening to kill him, but everything after that was a giant mess of scattered memories. The ride back to the prison. Being pulled out of a truck and shoved to her knees in front of Rick.  _Rick_. His face. His words. How he tried to save them all. God, he tried. She knew the last thing in the world he would want was to have Carl and Judith under the same roof as The Governor, but that was all he had. He threw a Hail Mary, but there was nothing he could've said, could've done. The Governor was just too far gone.

She couldn't look when she knew he was going to kill Hershel, but she heard it all so vividly. The sound of her blade,  _her_  weapon slicing into his neck... it was deafening. It felt like it had gone searing through her heart. She remembered wanting to scream, but her body catapulted itself into action.

Another haze of recollections accompanied that. But she knew she wouldn't soon forget the feeling she had when she spotted Rick being strangled from across the field. He had literally turned blue, and the sight made her breath catch in her throat. She remembered running as fast as her legs would carry her, but feeling like it was too late. She was going to make good on her promise to kill The Governor if it was the last thing she did, but she wasn't sure if she could save the man she loved. Pure relief washed over her when he rolled over and started coughing. She'd tried to hold onto him, but he needed to find his kids and she understood that. If she hadn't been so consumed in her anger, she would've even helped him look. But instead, she let him go.

She couldn't believe that after everything she'd done, all her leaving and searching still led to the exact moment she had dreaded. Philip fucking Blake had destroyed everything.

* * *

Once she finally made it off of the prison grounds, and someplace resembling safe, her emotions decided to attack her one by one. She was relieved to be alive. But she was so unbelievably angry. She was hurt by what happened to Hershel and the fact that she couldn't save him. She was confused as to how everything had unraveled so quickly. She had seen Rick and Carl's footprints, and was happy they'd made it out alive. But she had been too stubborn to follow after them, too afraid of what would happen next if she allowed herself to be reunited with anything she once knew. She could start over, going back to being on her own.

Except for that one tiny detail, where another person was growing inside of her.

What kind of life was she about to be living? On the road, by herself, pregnant? Was that even possible? Was she willing to do that? Did she have a choice? She remembered Andrea telling her that Rick's wife had swallowed half a dozen Morning After pills to try and incite an abortion. But who knows if that would've even worked. She might have been stuck with this kid, whether she wanted it or not.

Then the tears started. She wiped them away quickly, continuing along a dark road with her two new pets in tow. The sun had gone down, and she needed a place to hole up for the night. Dying wasn't on her agenda just yet.

She found an old car to keep her safe for the following few hours. She would go to sleep sad and hungry, but after the past few days she'd had, sleep would find her relatively easily. Her nightmares would haunt her, but at least her body would get some much-needed rest.

* * *

Michonne awoke to daylight, rattled by the dream that had just taken her to a past life. She hadn't dreamt of Mike or Andre in months, hadn't spoken to him in even longer, so she was unnerved by the fact that they had come back to her.

"Why are you doing this," she said out loud, knowing that she was regressing with every word. She didn't care. She needed to get it out.

His voice sounded so clear in her head. If she didn't know better, she would've thought he was actually in the car sitting next to her.  _You're slipping away, Michonne._

"I'm right here."

_Are you?_

She wasn't, really. Her body was present, but her mind was so full, she couldn't really say where it was. And her soul… who knew whether that even existed anymore. "I don't know what to do," she admitted in a whisper.

_You could get out of the car, for starters._

"And go where?"

_Where do you think?_

"I can't go back to them."

_To him, you mean?_

She let out a succession of quick breaths, scared to even have this conversation. "To Rick. Yes."

_Why not? You're not tired of pretending you don't love him? Don't need him?_

"I don't need anybody," she shot back quickly, with a glare into space. "You should know that by now."

_All right, maybe you don't. But what about that baby?_

She immediately got out of the car, as if she could escape the interrogation that was happening in her head. She gathered her pet walkers and continued down the road she'd been on, furthering herself from Rick and Carl with every step.

_You did this, girl. Some part of you had to know that this was inevitable._

She kept moving, noticing that she was collecting walkers with every few steps.

_Actions have consequences. You don't eat, you get hungry. You have unprotected sex, you get pregnant. You don't kill a psychopath, he comes back and tries to kill you and everyone you know._

"I don't hear you," she mumbled underneath the growl of the walkers that accompanied her. She quickly studied them all, wondering in the back of her mind why they weren't trying to eat her. They had joined on her on whatever journey she was on, as if they knew she was contemplating giving up. Eventually, she found one that resembled her a little too much for comfort, down to the hair being in locs.

_That's you if you keep in this direction you're headed, Michonne._

"If you know so much, why are you dead, Mike?"

_Don't be mad at me for seeing the mistakes you're making. I'm trying to help you. You've been on the run for too long now. Even with Andrea. You left Woodbury the way you did because you were too scared to share her with anybody. Now here you are in this shitty predicament, and it's time for fight or flight, and you choose flight. When do you stop running? You gotta be tired by now. Here someone is, trying to make it easier for you, and you keep choosing the hard route. This man welcomed you into his family, wants to be in this with you, and you wanna do it alone? Why?_

"I'm afraid," she whispered to herself.

_Afraid of what?_ His voice seemed to get louder as hers got softer.

"Look what happened to you. To Andre. I can't go through that again."

_Don't do that, baby girl. You gotta let us go. We're not them and they're not us. Choosing death isn't the way out of this._

As the walkers seemed to multiply, along with the intensity of Mike's voice in her head, she couldn't take it anymore. She pulled out her sword, and before she knew it, she was beheading and slicing walkers left and right. There were so many, she couldn't even count, but she moved constantly, if not haphazardly, until they were all in a pile on the ground. Her emotions crashed together at once and she wanted to scream again. Instead, she cried for what she hoped to be the last time.

It wasn't too long before she found her way back to those footprints in the mud that she knew belonged to her family. They led her to an abandoned barbecue restaurant, and finally to a quiet neighborhood full of seemingly undisturbed houses. It had taken everything she had to follow their tracks, and now, she wasn't sure what she would do if she didn't find them. Or even worse, if they were dead when she did.

The roads were empty, save for some fallen leaves, which was why a giant can in the middle of the street stood out like a sore thumb. She moved closer to it, noting that it was an empty can of pudding, and her heart began to race.  _Carl_. Hope began to rise in her chest, allowing herself to believe that they were close.

She cautiously stepped to the front door of the house that had been decorated with pudding, praying that she wouldn't have to look any further. Trembling, she looked through the front window, and was immediately overcome with joy. There they were. Rick and Carl. Sitting on the floor, eating and talking. It was everything she could've asked for. They were okay. She looked up to the sky, filled with gratitude and realization that she absolutely had something to live for.

"Thank you," she whispered to no one in particular.

But Mike was back in her thoughts, one last time, with one last reminder.  _Hold onto them this time._

Tears fell from her eyes as she nodded at the advice. She would hold on for dear life – she didn't have a choice. And before knocking on the door, she made herself that promise out loud. "I will."

* * *

Rick was in obvious pain, to the point where he couldn't even breathe properly, but when there was a knock at the door, he moved to it as swiftly as his body would allow. He and Carl couldn't handle any more surprises – at least, not any bad ones – so he glanced through the peephole carefully. He felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders when he saw Michonne's gorgeous chocolate face staring back at him. He became almost delirious with relief, laughing at the sight.

Carl had his gun cocked, ready for another battle as he watched his dad laugh. "What," he hissed.

Rick knew he would be just as excited to see her as he was. He couldn't contain his smile as he told him, "It's for you."

Confused, Carl looked through the peephole himself, shocked to find his best bud standing there. "No way," he grinned.

The two of them struggled to move the couch out of the way and untie Carl's clove hitch knot, but Michonne couldn't have cared less about the wait. Knowing they were okay was enough for her.

Before anyone knew it, the door swung open and Carl had his arms wrapped around Michonne's waist. "You're here!"

The excitement in his voice, along with the relief, was all Michonne needed to hear. She was crying again, as much as she hated the act, while her eyes locked on Rick. "I'm here," she nodded, attempting to wipe her face. Rick looked absolutely awful, to the point where it hurt her to see him in so much pain. She offered him a silent but genuine, "Hi."

He was still smiling at her when he replied with an inaudible, "Hey."

Carl was still holding onto her waist tightly, showing no signs of letting go, so she continued her silent conversation with his father. "You okay?"

"I am now," he mouthed back.

She smiled behind the fall of her tears. God, she loved this man. She couldn't believe how much better she felt the instant they were back in the same room together. "Me, too."

They kept their eyes on one another for another few beats, but Carl's sniffles brought them back to the moment. "Carl, why don't you come up for air and let Michonne have a seat."

He hesitantly released her from his embrace, his eyes shining with tears as he turned back to his dad. "Sorry."

"You all right?" Rick asked.

"Yeah," he nodded, though he wasn't sure if he was telling the truth. "Just thankful, I guess."

"We both are." They moved the couch back into place and the three of them sat down, Carl between the two adults. "Have you eaten anything?" Rick directed to Michonne.

The attack had been two days ago, and she hadn't eaten a single thing since then. Even worse, she'd thrown up what little had been in her stomach. She was starving, once she thought about it. "Can't say that I have."

"I went on a run yesterday and got a bunch of stuff," Carl piped up proudly.

Michonne looked at him disbelievingly. "You? By yourself?"

"I did!" he defended with a smile. "Of course, my dad was passed out on the couch and had no idea I was gone, but…"

She wanted to laugh at the kid, but the idea of Rick unconscious made her uneasy. The Governor had certainly done a number on him. It was surprising he was even up now. "That sounds scary."

Carl nodded. He didn't want to get into the part where he thought his dad had turned, but he could admit that it was the worst moment of his life. And that was saying a _lot._  "It was."

"He doesn't even know how amazing he is," Rick shook his head, instinctively running his hand through his son's unruly hair.

He didn't feel amazing. Not when he couldn't protect his baby sister. "Dad, please don't."

"I'm proud of you is all I'm saying."

"I know," Carl nodded somberly. He then looked to Michonne, who was smiling at the two of them. "So what can I get you to eat? Some cereal? Canned corn? Pork rinds?"

"I suppose there's no more pudding left," she winked at him.

"How do you know about that," he frowned.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the big ass can sitting in the front yard."

"Oh yeah…"

"Oh yeah," she mocked him playfully. "Dead giveaway. I knew it had to be either you or Glenn."

The three of them stopped their chuckling at the mention of his name. The mere thought of anyone else from the prison was a harsh reality to come to. The idea that they'd never again see their friends – their family, really… It was tough.

"They could've gotten out," Carl proclaimed, reading everyone's mind. "We did."

Rick nodded at his assessment. "They could've. That's all we can really hope for."

"I think I saw Beth head into the woods with Daryl," Michonne offered softly. They were the last two to leave before Rick and Carl, which was the only reason she had a chance to notice them. "I don't know who was on the bus."

"So many of them were sick," Rick recalled, which was exactly why they couldn't afford to fight. He couldn't imagine many of them were safe, especially with so many walkers taking over. He still wasn't sure how he made it out alive. And then it dawned on him. "I owe you a thank you," he realized, looking over Carl's head to Michonne again.

"You really don't," she smiled sadly.

"I do," he insisted. "You saved my life."

She hated thinking of that moment. She had all but resigned herself to the fact that she was too late. "I thought he'd killed you," she revealed quietly. "I was so relieved when you got up."

Carl looked back and forth between the two of them, realizing they made a really good team. "I didn't know Michonne saved you, Dad. Now you're even."

"Even?" Rick looked back at his son.

"Yeah. Remember when she came to the prison? She passed out, surrounded by walkers, and you carried her inside."

"Which is why you don't need to thank me, Rick." Not to mention, he'd saved her in every way imaginable just by being there for her. His friendship was the only reason she fought to stay alive sometimes.

He felt like he could read her thoughts. He knew she was thinking of him. And he was thinking of her. She had saved him from so much in the few months they'd known each other – particularly from himself. He didn't know how he would ever repay her. He smiled at her as he replied, "I suppose we're even then."

* * *

That night, Carl chose to sleep upstairs in the bedroom he'd coveted over the prior two days. Two nights on a hardwood floor were enough for him. He was glad Michonne was with them for obvious reasons, but not having to be on the lookout with his dad was a bonus.

Meanwhile, Rick insisted that Michonne take the master bedroom while he slept on the couch, but she wouldn't hear of it. He was wounded beyond belief, and if anything, he needed the bed. In the end, they decided to share it. They were adults, they were friends, and they'd sure as hell shared a lot more than that in the past.

That didn't stop Michonne from feeling antsy as he emerged from the bathroom, freshly bandaged, and climbed into bed. "Everything is fine," she whispered to herself with her eyes closed.

He glanced over to her, though in the dark, her expression was more unreadable than it usually was. So he asked her, "You all right?"

She nodded, not caring that he couldn't see her response.

"Why are you talking to yourself?"

"I dunno," she sighed. "I just… have to remind myself of that sometimes."

"Even if it's not true?"

"Especially if it's not true."

He sighed heavily. They were only inches apart, but he felt so far away from her. He wanted to hold her hand, he wanted to give her a hug, he wanted to hold her, but he knew that after everything that had happened, she probably wasn't feeling up to that kind of intimacy. "I told Carl earlier, I know things aren't ever gonna be like they were. But that doesn't mean they can't still be okay."

She nodded again, feeling soothed by his voice. It was raspy and rough, but she was just happy to hear it again. "It's just gonna be hard. Starting over."

"Hell, that's all we do nowadays. We should be pretty good at it by now."

"That's true," she smirked knowingly. Their lives were a series of do-overs at this point. "We had something special, though."

"Yeah. We did." He knew she was referring to the prison, but the same could be said about the two of them. "Doesn't mean we won't have it again. Might even be right here in this house."

"Maybe…" Her thoughts wandered to the next nine months and what they would be like. She wondered if this was the moment she should tell him. There had been something off in Rick and Carl's demeanors, both of them obviously saddened by the fact that Judith was gone. She was careful not to mention it, and they tried to smile through it for her, but it was clear to anyone with two eyes that they were deeply disheveled by it. And she wasn't sure whether her news would encourage Rick, or further depress him, so she decided to keep it to herself.

"Michonne?"

"Yeah?"

"You ever think about givin' up?"

She turned her head towards him, unsure of what to say to that. She didn't know whether it was because he suspected she had, or if he felt that way himself. "Constantly," she answered honestly.

It was his turn to nod. "If it weren't for Carl and Judith, I think I would have a long time ago." Now, it was just Carl.

"You would've found something to live for."

"What keeps you going?"

She turned her head to face the ceiling again, feeling perplexed by the question. But if she was going to stop running, that had to include running from the truth. "You do." She inched her hand towards Rick until she found his, intertwining their fingers. "You brought me back from the dead, Rick."

He was speechless. It was about the last thing he expected her to say. After all the time she spent trying to wriggle out of his clutches, there she was, holding onto him. "I wish you had prepared me for that one."

"Trust me, I didn't expect that to come out of my mouth either," she chuckled lightly. "But it's the truth."

He squeezed her hand softly, relaying that he felt the same. "I always wonder if this endless shit storm will ever let up. And then something like this happens. You happen. And it just reminds me that everything isn't quite as bad as it seems."

She smiled. He was a man of few words, but when he used them the right way, they sure could knock her off her feet. "Shit is pretty bad though," she joked, rolling so that she was on her side, facing him.

"Shit is bleak," he chuckled. "But he's dead, and we're alive. That's a start."

She ran her free hand through his curly hair and then continued to his face, her fingers gently exploring all of his bruises, all of his pain. She couldn't see anything, except for the shine of his sad blue eyes, but she could feel everything. "We're alive," she repeated, as if she had just come to the epiphany herself. "And we're together."

"We're together."

"That's a pretty good start."

He didn't say anything else, even though he agreed with her. He lowered his head, resting it against her chest so he could listen to her heart beat. He found it curious that it was going about a mile a minute, but after everything that had happened, he could understand why. Either way, he knew it would bring him a peaceful slumber.

After a few minutes had passed, she knew he had fallen asleep. She continued to caress his head, her fingers getting lost in the messy curls. She hated to wake him, but she had something she'd needed to tell him for months now. "Rick?" she whispered, not wanting to startle him.

"Hmm?" he grunted back softly.

"Just so you know, my last name is Bellamy."

His eyes slowly opened at the realization of what she said. She was making an attempt at being open, being honest, and he could barely contain a smile at the thought. He almost thought he was dreaming. "Are you talking in your sleep, Michonne?"

"No," she giggled quietly. "You wanted to know. There was no reason to keep it from you."

"I'm sure you had your reasons."

"I did. But they were pointless. I'm here with you, I'm in this."

As much as it hurt to not have Judith there with them, he felt a contentment he didn't think he'd find after everything that went down. This was what he called a good start.


	3. a screeching halt

**3: a screeching halt**

The day had been an interesting one, to say the least. What had started as fairly tame, with Rick staying home to rest, and Michonne vowing that she was done taking breaks, ended with him strangling a man in a bathroom, and her shedding whatever armor she'd had left. They had lost their home for the night, but found a new one before nightfall, as well as a new mission for the future.

"If any of the others saw those signs, they'll be at Terminus," Rick announced as they settled into the floor of their new temporary living room. He glanced at Michonne, who he knew was fairly wary of the idea. She wanted to just find a house and batten down the hatches. "We have to try there."

She nodded understandingly. "We have a mission, at least."

"Maybe it really is a sanctuary," Carl offered hopefully. "Like, maybe it's another version of the prison."

Rick remembered what Morgan had told him so many months ago – if you have something good, that just means someone wants to take it from you. So his hopes weren't high that Terminus could be a long-term solution, but he didn't want to dash Carl's. "Maybe…"

Michonne didn't want to say it out loud, but she really hoped they would find Judith there. Like maybe Maggie or Sasha found her before they got out. If they got out. She knew Rick and Carl had to be thinking it too. "The world is never gonna stop surprising us. But there are good surprises, too."

Rick caught her eye and offered a small smile. He knew that to be true, because Michonne had turned out the biggest and best surprise the world had offered him in a long time. "You an optimist now?"

"You wish," she chuckled.

She looked unbelievably beautiful in the candlelight, he noticed. Angelic, almost. "What did you two find to eat besides Crazy Cheez?"

Carl rummaged through his bag and pulled out several cans of Roni Sticks and Sketti Rings – disgusting canned versions of Italian delicacies that Carl loved when he was younger. Rick and Michonne made a face at their dinner, but had to admit it would be better than another can of green beans.

"I remember you used to try and sneak these into your lunchbox," Rick recalled, opening a can for each of his companions. "You didn't have a can opener or anything. I guess you thought you were gonna get it open with sheer will."

"I never claimed to be the brightest kid," he smiled back, recalling those days as well.

"Geez, kid. I thought I had bad taste in food," Michonne joked.

Rick looked up at her with raised eyebrows. "You do."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and sat back against the sofa to enjoy her dinner. "You know… I think time might have actually made these taste better."

"That's called desperation," he teased, taking a small gulp from his can. He looked at Carl, who was already finishing off the contents of his meal as they spoke.

"I think somebody was hungry," Michonne smirked, watching him as well.

Carl looked up obliviously. "Just a little." He pulled his bottle of water from his bag and took a few small sips before hopping up from his seat. "I'm taking first watch, right, Dad?"

"You are," Rick nodded handing over his gun again. "You wake me before you have to use this," he instructed seriously. "You see anything out of the ordinary…"

"I know."

"Be careful. And wake me in three hours, alright?"

"I got it, Dad."

He grabbed a kitchen chair on his way to the foyer and set up in front of the window next to the front door. He planned to do occasional perimeter checks from inside the house, similar to what he'd learned at the prison. He liked having his job back after so many weeks of useless farming.

Back in the living room, Michonne and Rick continued with their dinner, avoiding the most serious topics on both of their minds. Rick's thoughts were consumed with Judith, while Michonne could only think of the baby growing inside her and the fact that she had yet to tell the father. Was now the right time to say it?

"I killed a man today," Rick proclaimed as if he had just come to the realization in that moment. "Jesus Christ."

Michonne looked at him tenderly, wanting him to know that she had not judged him for it in the least. "You did what you had to do."

He nodded, as that was more than true. "I did. They were openly talking about raping you. They were dangerous men. I would've done anything to protect you two from them."

She felt exactly the same. Which is why she had no qualms about putting her katana through The Governor. She did what she had to do. "Then don't feel bad about it, Rick."

He wasn't sure what it meant to not feel bad after taking a life. To have no kind of remorse. That was Shane's train of thought. And Carol's, apparently. He never wanted it to be easy to kill a man. But that afternoon, when it was either him or the other guy, he didn't have to think twice. Even as weak as he was, there was no doubt in his mind that it was going to be the other guy.

"It was Carol," he began to reveal quietly, looking to Michonne to gauge her reaction. "She killed Karen and David."

Michonne's big brown eyes narrowed at the news. "What?"

"She admitted it herself," he continued. "And I banned her from the prison for it. Which might've saved her life, in the end. But I couldn't understand her point of view…"

"And you do now?"

"She did it for us," he frowned, finally getting it. "It was misguided, but she was doing what she needed to do to protect us."

Michonne considered this, but was unsure whether she agreed. Murdering two of their own was a far cry from strangling a rapist. "You don't need to feel bad about banning her, Rick. The council would've done it if you didn't."

"Maybe," he nodded. "But I didn't understand. I didn't try to."

"Rick…"

"I did the same thing with you. I never tried to understand why you weren't ready, and I'm sorry for that."

She moved across the floor so that she was sitting right next to him, so that they could speak low enough that Carl wouldn't hear them. "You don't need to be." She took his hand into hers for the second time in two days. "I meant it when I said I was done taking breaks."

He looked down at their intertwined hands. Even in the darkness, the contrast of their skin together was such a beautiful sight to him. He wished they had found each other before the world went to shit, but he knew why she had been put in his life at this point. She gave him the strength to keep going. "I love you, Michonne."

She swallowed hard at those four words, feeling a mixture of joy and trepidation at hearing them. He'd said it before, at Glenn and Maggie's wedding a few weeks prior, but she figured that he meant it in a best friend, I-trust-you-with-my-life sort of way. This time, she knew that he was saying he was  _in_  love with her.

A couple of stray tears escaped to her cheeks as she replied, "I love you too, Rick." It had been true for a long time. It felt good to finally admit it without some devastating 'but' to follow. "Whew," she sighed.

Rick was just as shocked as she was. When he said it, the last thing in the world he expected was for her to say it back. "Did that just happen?" he smiled.

Without thinking, she motioned to sit on top of him, straddling his lap so that they were face to face. "It did," she eventually returned with a sly smirk.

She placed a soft kiss on his unwitting lips, waiting for him to return the action. He did so immediately, his hands instinctively groping her ass as he did. Her tongue eventually requested entrance into his mouth and he was happy to oblige, if only for a moment.

"Michonne..." he pulled back hesitantly. The last thing in the world he wanted was to let her take her lips off of him, but this was turning into risky business. "Carl is right in the other room."

"I know," she whispered, trying to continue the kiss anyway. It had been a long time. She knew they regretfully couldn't do anything else, but kissing seemed harmless enough. "He's gotta find out sooner or later..."

As much as he hadn't really been in the mood, he noticed that his pants were getting a little tighter with every second she was on top of him. "I think we should get some sleep," he chuckled awkwardly. "We've had a long day."

She didn't want to relent, but he was right. Besides, she didn't want to start something they couldn't finish, and from the feel of it, they were quickly headed in that direction. She slowly slid from his lap, offering one last peck to his lips before she stood and began to make their bed for the night.

He kept his eyes on her as she moved gracefully to pull their sleeping bag into place, the candlelight illuminating her every step. He couldn't contain a smile at the fact that she was his now. She was giving of herself, willingly and completely. He had no idea what the future held, but if she was a part of it, he knew they would be all right.

* * *

The next morning, Michonne awoke, surprised to find Carl crouched next to her. She had fallen asleep in Rick's arms, and was somewhat disappointed that he wasn't still there, but she supposed he had taken watch at some point in the night. She wondered if Carl had seen them cuddled together.

She wondered a lot about him, it seemed. She hoped their little game the day before made him feel better, but she didn't know if he would ever be truly happy, and it made her hurt for him. She wondered who he was going to be in this world. A man like his father, constantly toeing the line between the light and darkness? A hopeful man, like Hershel? Or some hardened soul, dogmatic about doing what needed to be done, at any cost? He was a sweet, thoughtful kid, but she could tell he didn't know that about himself yet. She ran a hand through his hair and let it rest gently on his face.

"I pray for you, little one." She said it for Carl, but she meant it for the person growing inside her as well.

Rick stood quietly in the doorway of the room, watching the scene unfold. He had been observing the loves of his life in their slumber, and wanted to say something when he saw Michonne had woken, but he just couldn't bring himself to disturb the moment. She was so good with Carl, so caring and attentive. It was one of many reasons he was in love with her.

"Do you really?" he finally whispered when she'd stopped caressing Carl's face.

Surprised, she turned towards his voice and smiled, sitting up to look at him. "Hey," she returned softly. He looked beautiful, bathed in the morning sunlight, she noticed. Even as bruised and battered as he'd been, she loved looking at him. "Do I really what?"

"Pray for him."

"I do." She slowly removed herself from the sleeping bag, careful not to disturb Carl, and moved towards Rick. "I pray for you, too."

"I didn't know you were religious."

"I'm not, particularly," she reasoned. She kept walking, leading him towards the staircase at the front of the house so they wouldn't wake the kid. He took a seat first and she sat on the step in front of him, instinctively resting her head against his thigh. She loved being close to him. "My parents weren't big believers in God and all that," she went on, "but my mother's mother was a very devout Catholic. And all my life, even as an adult, she would tell me how she prayed for me and my sister, she lit candles for us, even before we were born. It just stuck with me, I guess."

He smiled thoughtfully, his mind wandering to what her grandmother must have been like. Her parents, too. "I also didn't know you had a sister."

"Yep. Younger."

He played with the ends of her hair that were splayed across his leg. "What was her name?" he asked softly.

"Noemie. She lives in Boston. Or lived, I guess," she sighed. "No way I'll ever know now."

"I have – or had – a younger brother, Jeffrey. Lived in Memphis," he revealed. "It was so weird realizing that I'd never see him again."

"I tell myself that she made it somehow. Like to an island or something. Even if I don't believe it, it's all I got."

"You ever think about how full our lives were before? We had families and friends and colleagues and the folks around the neighborhood. Just tons of people that made up our existences. And now... it's just a handful."

"And in that handful, every single one of them are the most important thing in the world to you," she agreed. "It's very odd." She inwardly smiled at the sensation of his hands in her hair. It made her feel like a kid again. "How far do you think we are from Terminus?"

"A good sixty miles or so," he had decided from looking at the map the day before. Part of him didn't want to leave. He could find happiness right there with just the three of them. But he had to know if the others, namely Judith, were alive. "Why?"

"Just wondering how long it'll take to get there."

"You need a break already?" he joked.

"I need you to take a break."

"I've had plenty of rest, you know."

"When was that?" she turned her head towards his voice. "When you were unconscious? Or when you were under a bed trying not to be killed?"

"That's very funny."

"I'm serious, Rick. You need one good day to do absolutely nothing."

"You said this yesterday and you see how that turned out."

"Okay, that didn't go as planned," she laughed quietly. "The difference is, I'm gonna be here to make sure nobody fucks with you."

"Oh, is that right?" he asked flirtatiously. "Nobody?"

"Well... almost nobody," she grinned to herself.

He tapped her shoulder lightly so that she would lift her head and he stood from his seat. He glanced over the banister, where he could see Carl still fast asleep, and then looked to the top of the staircase. "Come on," he instructed quietly.

She looked at him with an odd mixture of hesitation and excitement. "Come on where?"

His blue eyes danced with her brown ones for just a moment, letting her know that he wasn't going to answer her. "Come  _on_."

She hopped up from her seat and followed him up the steps to the master bedroom, smiling at the fact that he had obviously already cleaned up the room.

He was pulling off his t-shirt before she could even compliment him on his efforts. "You just gonna stand there?" he teased her.

She felt a flutter in her stomach as she realized what was happening. They hadn't had sex in nearly two months, and she had missed him terribly. She didn't think he would be in the mood anytime soon, but she sprung into action the second he put the offer on the table. "What ever happened to romance," she joked, beginning to unbutton her shirt as well.

"You want romance, or you wanna get laid," he smirked, approaching her for a kiss. He could feel her smile as their lips devoured each other.

Her hands gently went up and down his bare sides while he finished the rest of the buttons on her shirt for her. He was in the process of undoing her bra when their moment came to a screeching halt, at Michonne's behest.

"Sorry," she pulled away and turned her head completely so that she was no longer facing him.

He frowned at the suddenness of it all. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, but still wouldn't look at him. "Just... gimme a minute."

He gave her some space but watched carefully as she bent over with her hands on her knees. "You should sit," he suggested.

"I'm... fine." She wasn't fine. Maybe it was all the excitement, but her stomach was betraying the hell out of her.  _Morning sickness is a bitch_ , she thought to herself.

"You look like you wanna throw up," he noted, reading her to a tee.

"I'm fine."

"The more you say it, the less I believe you," he frowned. He offered her his hand so that he could help her to the bed.

"Bathroom," she directed him, realizing she couldn't put up this front any longer.

He immediately obliged, guiding her to the main restroom situated in the hallway. She was on her knees, retching into the toilet before he could even close the door. "I guess we'll be finding you something else for dinner," he attempted to joke as he held her hair. In the back of his mind, he just hoped that was all that was wrong.

* * *

The following morning, Michonne and the Grimes boys found themselves exploring their new neighborhood in search of supplies. They'd spent the remainder of the previous day doing absolutely nothing, but it was time to get to work. They were dangerously low on ammo, which was to say they had none, and were going to need an ample cache if they were going to make it to Terminus. Michonne and Carl had cleared two houses when they met up with Rick, who was just finishing his first.

"Any luck?" Michonne called out to him.

"Couple of handguns and a shotgun," he squinted in the sun, noting that Carl appeared to be weighed down by his bag. "What did you find?"

"More Sketti Rings," Michonne rolled her eyes jokingly. "But also some beef stew for us."

"And batteries," Carl piped up to remind Michonne. "The kind that tell you how full they are!"

Rick chuckled at how excited Carl seemed to be by the notion. "I thought I'd head down by the cul-de-sac and then make my way up."

Michonne nodded but began frowning, much to Rick and Carl's confusion.

"What is it?" Rick wondered, turning to make sure a herd or something equally as dangerous wasn't approaching them.

She visibly swallowed and then shook her head. "It's nothin'," she promised. "I'll take Carl to the street over and see what we find there."

It was Rick's turn to nod. "You want me to hold on to those cans," he offered his son. He had the biggest bag of the three of them and could carry them more comfortably.

"That's okay." Carl wanted to be sure to assert himself as being just as capable as the adults. Plus, his dad was still healing. "You be careful, okay, Dad?"

"You, too," he eyed both of them. "We'll meet back here in two hours?"

They nodded and headed in the direction in the direction opposite Rick.

Carl found himself walking unusually far in front of Michonne, and turned multiple times to make sure she was all right. When she hadn't said anything for a full five minutes, he finally decided to just ask. "Is everything okay, Michonne?"

She narrowed her eyes at him playfully, trying to distract him from the fact that she wasn't her usual self. Morning sickness was really rearing its ugly head. "Yeah. Everything okay with you?"

"I'm fine," he retorted. "You're the one lagging behind."

"I'm not lagging," she lied. "I'm enjoying the scenery."

"What's so scenic about a bunch of houses and leaves on the ground?"

He was right. The neighborhood, while a typical lovely Georgia setting, wasn't particularly picturesque. She was just trying to hold it together. "It's peaceful," she finally decided. "We have to cherish these moments sometimes."

Carl was used to quiet. Sometimes, too used to it, he thought. But if she liked it, he wasn't going to say anything. "If you say so."

She smiled, relieved that he wasn't going to challenge her. "Hey, you got any crackers in that bag?"

He stopped to search his sack full of food, though he was pretty sure he only had chips and cookies. "That's a negative, ghost rider. I've got some Lorna Doones, ginger snaps, which you can have every last one of, some Pringles, and… one very sad Chips Ahoy left."

She eyed him carefully, knowing he must have snuck and ate the rest of the cookies when she wasn't looking. "When did you eat the Chips Ahoy, Carl?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he grinned coyly, resuming his walk to their next house.

"There were at least twenty of them when we got to the house last night."

"Maybe my dad ate them…"

"Or maybe his son did."

Carl couldn't contain his laugh and 'fessed up as they came to another stop. "Okay, okay, I ate them last night. I swear I didn't mean to, but I was just sitting there, looking out the window, and before I knew it, like the whole thing was gone."

"You're the worst!" she laughed lightly. "We're supposed to share."

"I know, that's why I saved the last one for you."

"I don't know why. Nobody wants just one cookie, dude."

"It's better than no cookies."

"Oh, just eat it," she grinned, walking ahead of him towards the front door. She was thankful to him for distracting her from her sickness, but they weren't gonna clear anything in two hours if they kept at the glacial pace they were going.

"Hey, Michonne," he stopped her before she could break open the door to the place.

"Yes, sir?"

"Were you cold last night?"

"What?" she smiled back at him, confused.

"Last night. You and my dad were… " His young face turned a bright pink shade as he tried to ask the question he wanted without actually asking it. "I mean… I don't know, ignore me."

"No, tell me what you mean," her face contorted in bewilderment. "That's too random a question to not mean anything."

"Okay," he sighed nervously. He realized he would've been more comfortable asking his dad this since they had already explored the topic a bit. "Last night, when I came to wake my dad, you guys…" His sentence trailed into silence when he saw Michonne bend herself over the railing of the porch. "Are you okay?"

She tried to answer, but found herself throwing up before she could get the words out.

Carl was stunned. He didn't know what to do but watch. "Should I... go get my dad?"

"No!" she was able to croak out forcefully. Rick had already seen her like this, the last thing she needed was for him to know this was a chronic issue. Nearly panting, she kneeled on the ground so she could steady herself. Her vision blurred with tears as she felt another round coming up. "Water," she requested just before she began vomiting again.

"I'm getting really worried," Carl noted as he found a half full bottle in his bag and handed it over. "Is it something you ate?" He and his dad were fine, so he couldn't imagine it was that.

"I dunno," she breathed before taking smalls sips from the bottle. "I think I'm fine now."

"You don't look fine."

She exhaled slowly and pulled herself up from her spot. She remembered having similar issues when she was pregnant with Andre, but that had been so long ago, she didn't realize how hard it would be to hide this all from her two companions. Rick was too perceptive and Carl was too inquisitive for her symptoms to go unnoticed. She was going to have to spill the beans sooner than later. "Just trust me, kid. Let's go."

* * *

That afternoon, after the three of them returned from their fairly successful ammo run, they scattered about the house, enjoying the last few hours of shelter before they began their journey to Terminus. Michonne was upstairs, rummaging for any clothing and blankets that would be useful in their approximate week on the road. Rick was in the kitchen loading their guns, and Carl had just finished organizing the food when he found his father.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Hey." He looked up at him briefly, noting the worry in his big blue eyes. "What's on your mind?"

"I don't wanna worry you," he started cautiously, knowing his dad tended to be overly-wary about, well, everything. "But I'm not sure if we should leave yet."

Rick stopped what he was doing and watched his son's expression carefully. "Why do you say that?"

"There are a few reasons. But the most important one... I think Michonne might be sick."

"And what makes you think that?" his eyes narrowed.

"I don't mean like she's turning or anything," he assured his father, "but while we were out today, she just started throwing up all of a sudden. We weren't moving fast or anything, she just stopped and started vomiting. And it kind of freaked me out. She said she was fine, but she looked... I dunno... sick."

Rick exhaled slowly, resting his elbows on the table while his hand covered his exhausted face. "Shit," he sighed softly, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. His stomach dropped to his feet as the pieces pulled into place. The timeline for when they began messing around; the morning sickness; her being all open and honest with him - it all made sense now.

"What, Dad?"

He opened his eyes to look at Carl, but seemed to be looking through him instead. "Huh?"

"What's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost."

He felt like he had just died, actually. "Nothin', son. I just… gotta talk to Michonne."


	4. lions and tigers and bears

**4: lions and tigers and bears**

With a blank expression on his face, Rick left Carl in the kitchen to trudge upstairs and find Michonne. She was done with clothing and was now browsing one of the kid's rooms, collecting books for Carl. He normally wouldn't interrupt her so hastily, but they absolutely had to have this conversation.

"We gotta talk," he announced, knowingly startling her.

She turned from the bookshelf and locked eyes with her boyfriend, already knowing where the conversation was headed. "...Okay," she sighed. "Here?"

"As good a place as any," he shrugged, moving towards her. Her gestured for her to take a seat on the bed, and he sat down on the carpeted floor so that he could look directly at her as they spoke.

He looked about as uneasy as she felt, and she knew this discussion was going to be the exact one that she dreaded. She looked him in the eye and started things off. "So… what's on your mind?"

"I feel like I should be asking you that question."

"Don't make this more uncomfortable than it already is," she pleaded. "I don't have it in me."

"All right," he sighed, glancing at their feet, only a few centimeters apart. "You pregnant?"

She didn't know why, but the question rattled her to her core. She knew he was up there to ask that very thing, yet she hadn't readied herself for it. He could've asked why her whole family was dead and elicited the same guttural reaction.

His head cocked to the side while he waited for an answer. Her face went through a series of emotions, but none of them came with a reply. "Michonne?"

"I had a son," she calmly announced to the silent room. She avoided his gaze for as long as she could, but eventually, her eyes locked on him, gauging his reaction. "Not just a boyfriend, but a son before all this."

Some part of her expected him to be shocked, shocked enough to say something, at least, but he just sat there, silently, watching her. His blue eyes offered nothing in the way of emotion – no sympathy, no confusion, no anger, just emptiness.

"Did you hear me?"

He nodded, ever so slightly.

"Are you all right?"

"Why... How come you never said anything before?" he stammered hoarsely.

"I never told anyone until I told Carl a couple of days ago," she shrugged. "I don't know why."

"You told Carl?"

She nodded. "He was feeling down, I thought it would help him to know that he wasn't alone in his grief."

Rick seemed to understand, but his empty stare had turned to a frown. "How old was he?"

"He would've been three a couple of weeks after he... died." Tears dotted her cheeks as the words came out, and she didn't try to stop them.

Rick closed his eyes, trying to push away his thoughts of Judith. He could only imagine how hard it must've been for Michonne, to not only experience such a grave loss, but to process it all alone. His own eyes began to water, but he wiped them quickly. "I'm sorry," he offered genuinely. "I wish I knew what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

"What was his name?"

"Andre." She closed her own eyes, envisioning his perfect little face. She began to cry harder as she recalled the last time she saw him. She hated to think of it, but flashes of his bloody face had haunted her for so long. She gripped the edge of the bed, bowed her head, and let the tears fall. "I had to put him down," she whispered.

Rick was sure he felt his heart break in half in that moment. He immediately moved to kneel in front of her, wanting to comfort her in any way he could. Even if it just meant his presence. He took her hands and held them, keeping his eyes on her as he gently kissed her palm. "You don't have to hold onto this stuff by yourself," he whispered to the side of her face. "I'm with you."

"I know," she nodded to herself, eyes still closed. "I just held it in for so long. It didn't even occur to me that this was something I could share until I was talking to Carl."

"And what did he say?"

"He was so compassionate, it killed me," she opened her eyes and smiled to herself sadly. "He said maybe Judith and Andre are together somewhere."

"Jesus." Rick felt the tears on his cheeks before he could stop them.

She took his face into her hands, tenderly wiping beneath his eyes with her thumbs. She wished the circumstances were different, that they were safer, if not happier, but the truth was, news that inevitably changed your entire world would never have good timing. She searched his eyes for hope, or at the very least, understanding, before she made her big announcement. She found neither. "I am pregnant," she finally admitted.

His eyes absorbed her words slowly while the rest of his head spun in circles. Everything was happening at once, it seemed. He removed her hands from his face and pulled back to sit down on the floor again. "When were you gonna tell me?"

"I don't know," she returned genuinely. "It never quite seemed like the right time."

"Is there ever a right time?"

"I suppose there isn't." She sighed. She couldn't justifiably blame his melancholy or the fact that Judith wasn't there. It was her own cowardice that kept her secret. "Everything is just so fucked up."

"Yeah well, that's nothing new." He hated this contradictory mixture of irritation and sadness that he held for her in that moment. He didn't know which one to speak on. "This why you told me about your son?" he had to know. "So I wouldn't blow up at you?"

"No," she frowned. "Of course not."

He only looked at her, as if he was questioning her sincerity.

"I'm trying to help you understand me. Who I've been since the world went to shit, why I do the things I do."

He nodded, but still didn't say anything.

"Rick, I promise you, there's nothing inauthentic about me. I may not give it all to you at once, but when I do, it's me." Her eyes begged his to believe her. "You have to know that."

"So this new, open, ready-for-love Michonne isn't just because you were scared to be alone with a baby..."

"What the fuck, Rick."

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask..."

"Is that really what you think of me?"

He shook his head slowly and shrugged a bit. "I don't know what to think. You show up at the door with your heart in your hands, after you kept it locked away for so long... You're telling me you're done taking breaks, and I'm so pleasantly surprised by it all. Now I find out you've been keeping this huge secret. Put yourself in my shoes, tell me what I'm supposed to think."

"Rick, it took everything, and I do mean everything for me to get over myself and choose you. I fucked up not telling you sooner; I get that. But the easy way out of this was to disappear, walk away, let myself get killed. I actively  _chose_  you," she reminded him. "I chose the hard route because after all the shit that happened, even after we lost everything we had, I realized that my life was infinitely better with you in it. And yes, this kid deserves a father, and you deserve to know that this is happening, but make no mistake, I'm not afraid to be alone. In fact, trying to be in a relationship with you is the much more terrifying prospect. So no, this wasn't some setup to get back in your good graces just because you knocked me up."

He responded with silence once again.

"Say something," she demanded, frustrated.

"How long have you known," he inquired softly.

She exhaled quietly. "Just a few days. I found out the morning of the attack."

His eyes dropped to the floor, thankful that it hadn't been weeks or anything crazy like that. "I wish you'd told me sooner."

"I do too," she whispered. "If I had known it would alter your trust in me, I would have."

"I trust you," he assured her, looking her in the eye again. "But I have to ask the shitty questions or they don't get answers. And I'll always wonder. I'm trying to learn from my mistakes with Lori. And this doesn't work," he signaled between the two of them, "if we're not one hundred percent honest with each other."

It was her nodding this time. "I'm sorry, Rick,"

He inhaled and exhaled slowly, unsure of what to do with this information. The three of them on the road was one thing, but the four of them? Terminus went from a pipe dream to a virtual necessity. They needed a place to settle down. A place with a doctor. They needed a home. Rick wasn't sure he could provide that. Life just got a hell of a lot harder.

"How far along do you think you are?"

She shook her head as she tried to calculate everything. "I haven't had a period in over a year, so it's hard to say. Based on when we started and ended, I'd say anywhere from six to ten weeks."

That made sense. Especially since she wasn't showing or anything. "So we've got about six months to figure this out."

"So it seems..."

"Or... I mean, I don't know... do you want this baby?"

She looked at him curiously. "Do I have a choice?"

"I... honestly don't know how that all works." He thought back to Lori, when she was first pregnant with Judith. She certainly seemed to think she had an option in the matter. "Don't you?"

"Not a lot of abortion clinics open these days, Rick."

"You don't have to be a smart ass about it."

"I'm just saying, it's not like we have a lot of alternatives here."

"What would you want to do if we did?"

"If we did, we'd probably be living in very different circumstances. So that's a hard question to answer."

She was right about that. This might've even sounded like good news just a few months ago. "How did you feel when you first found out?" he wondered.

"Well, we still had the prison, so it was a very different set of emotions than I feel now."

"But what were they?"

"I was scared," she confessed quietly. "Scared of what you would say. Mad at myself, that I had pushed you away, only to find this out. But also, a little bit hopeful? I don't know if that's the word. But I was with Maggie at the time, and she made me feel like it would be… okay."

He took in her words contemplatively. He only felt scared in that moment. "How about after?"

"Like I said, I'm much more terrified now than I was before. But I also feel safe. With you."

He wasn't so sure that she should. "I honestly have no idea what we're gonna do," he shook his head. "This is..."

"This is heavy," she agreed, finishing his sentence for him. "But the worst part is over, Rick. We found each other."

"Yeah, I found my wife, too, and that didn't really turn out so well."

She stopped herself from replying, deflated by his words. She knew that would be something he worried about. How could he not? But for him to throw it at her the way he did, she hadn't expected. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" His stare had turned so cold within a matter of seconds. His emotions were all over the place.

She finally moved from the bed and got down on the floor with him, straddling his legs so that they were close. "We have to be in this together."

"I told you I'm with you, Michonne."

"I can see you slipping away." He tried to look away from her big pleading brown eyes, but she forced him to stay focused. "Don't leave me, baby. Not now."

"I'm trying," he promised, his eyes softening again.

"Nothing's changed. We still go to Terminus. And we'll take it from there."

He didn't know how she could say that.  _Everything_  had changed. The three of them were hardened survivors, but having a helpless baby on the road – and that was if the labor didn't kill Michonne – sounded impossible. Shane's words were ringing in his ears as he sat there.  _I don't think you can keep them safe_. Rick wasn't lying when he said he remembered him every day. In fact, it was more like he was haunted by him. "You really trust me?"

She could feel him doubting himself and she hated it for him. "From the moment I met you," she supplied sincerely.

"Why? I was so mean to you."

"It was probably because you were mean to me," she smiled to herself. "If you had seen the way The Governor was when me and Andrea got there. He was unbelievably kind; it was so obviously fucked up." She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking of how much she wished Andrea had been able to see it. "When I came to the prison, you were the opposite. You were hostile. But that's what made sense to me. That's what I would've been. And then I saw you had a baby; I saw you with Carol… and I knew. This was real. You weren't pretending to have some paradise in the prison. It was a home. And I needed a home. And even though you told me every other minute that I couldn't stay," she chuckled lightly, "you didn't let me go. So yeah... I believe in you, Rick. I trust you with my life, I trust you with my heart, and I trust you to take care of whoever this is that we made together. We got this."

He wished he could be as confident as she was. He breathed shakily, processing her words and what it meant for the two of them to embark on this journey together. He just didn't want to fail her like he did Lori. "I sure as fuck hope you're right," he finally smiled.

He was about to offer her a kiss, but there was a knock at the door, startling both of them, though they knew it had to be Carl. They'd been so lost in the moment, they'd forgotten about him.

"Come in," Michonne called out.

He opened the door hesitantly, surprised to see Michonne on top of his father. Not because he found it inappropriate, but because she normally would've gotten up before he could see them in such a position. "Hey," he greeted them nervously.

"Hey," Rick returned softly, turning his head towards his son. "Come sit with us."

Carl frowned, unsure of where he was supposed to take a seat. It would have been awkward to take the floor with them in the position they were in, so he chose the bed. He watched as Michonne picked herself up and joined him while his dad stayed where he was. "What's going on in here?" he questioned.

"Just talkin' through some stuff," Rick offered. "Everything okay?"

Carl nodded. "You guys were just gone a long time, wanted to make sure everything was okay with you."

Michonne looked at Rick and he looked back at her apprehensively, letting her know that this was it. No more hiding, no more secrets from the kid. The cat was about to be out of the bag. He gave Carl a comforting smile before making their announcement. "Michonne is pregnant."

Carl immediately frowned at Michonne and then at his dad, trying to read their faces. He wondered if they were playing some prank on him, as they sometimes did back at the prison. Their jokes were never serious, though – it was always about food, or getting him to work on something they knew he'd hate. In this case, it seemed like that they were serious. "What?" he replied, as if he hadn't heard correctly.

"I'm having a baby," she repeated for him. "Me and your dad are."

An uncomfortable smile began to spread across his face, mainly because he was utterly confused by the words he was hearing. "…What?"

"What are you confused about," Rick asked, gazing at him. They'd finally had 'the talk' over a year ago when Lori was pregnant, but maybe he hadn't fully gotten the message.

"I mean, how is that possible?" Carl demanded. "When did this even happen? And why?"

"Why," Rick sighed inaudibly. "We didn't plan for it, Carl. It happened, and we're gonna deal with it, but we didn't get together and say, 'Hey, let's bring a baby into these shitty circumstances.'"

"But… you have to have sex to get pregnant, right?"

"Right..."

"So you knew it  _could_  happen…"

"Yes, you're right." Rick was already exhausted by the day and everything Michonne had told him. This conversation was going to be the death of him. "But that was back at the prison, and things were different then. This would've been much easier."

Carl accepted that with a small nod. He knew Hershel and Dr. S had helped deliver a couple of babies in the past few months, so it was possible. "Why didn't you tell me you were together back then?"

"Well… because we weren't."

"You weren't together? But you just said…" Carl was so confused.

"It's complicated," Michonne interjected, seeing Rick's exasperation unfold. "I'm not sure if there's a way to explain it all." She knew that sex was an odd thing for adults to comprehend, much less a teenager that was still learning what the word even meant. "But we're together now."

He nodded at her, but looked to his dad for confirmation. "So you're together and you're having a baby. And… we just forget about Judith?"

"What?" Rick frowned. "Of course not, son. She will  _never_  be forgotten."

Carl felt like they were well on their way to moving on. But he didn't feel comfortable having the conversation in front of Michonne, knowing she had lost her own child, so he relented. "If you say so."

"I do say so," Rick retorted adamantly. He knelt in front of his son and demanded his attention. "Judith will always be ours. Nothing can change that. You hear me?"

"I got it, Dad." He didn't want to be in that room anymore. He felt like his dad's stare was choking him. He needed air. "Was that it?"

"You want somethin' else?"

"No, I mean, just making sure we're still leaving in the morning."

"We are."

Carl nodded and popped up from his seat. "Okay then."

"Okay? You don't have any other questions? Concerns?"

"Nope."

Rick knew that didn't sound right – his inquisitive son always had a million questions about everything. But he wasn't going to push him into a conversation after dropping such a big bomb on him, so he let him go. "All right then…"

Michonne watched Carl carefully as he left. She saw the sadness in his eyes as he closed the door on his way out. She wanted so badly to be able to fix him. Fix both of them, really. "He's scared," she noted to Rick once she heard him trampling down the steps.

"Yeah…" he sighed. "Like father, like son." Rick fell back to the floor and looked up to the ceiling, his eyes welling with tears as he tried to think through it all. He really couldn't see his way through this one. He felt helpless.

Michonne wasn't sure what to do, what to say. Both of her boys looked so lost, so frightened. She wasn't doing so hot herself, but she knew she had to put on her game face for them. That's what relationships, what families were all about. When one faltered, the other had to rise to the occasion. After everything they'd been through, she wasn't sure how much she had left. But she would be damned if she didn't try.


	5. okay? okay.

**5: okay? okay.**

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?"

Rick and Carl had been walking along the train tracks in silence for a good five minutes, enjoying the light breeze that June had to offer. The moment was too serene, Rick knew it wouldn't be long before his son had something to say. "You can ask me anything, Carl."

"Okay," he sighed lightly, "so… I'm still kind of confused about how you and Michonne are having a baby if you weren't together at the prison."

Rick anticipated this was coming. He had let it all go much too easily when they first spoke about it a couple of days ago. He didn't know when, but he knew at some point he would have to explain himself. "Well… I'll be honest with you. Sometimes people have sex without being in a relationship, son. There are no rules about it, really, so long as it's two consenting adults."

"So you don't have to be in love."

"No, not quite," he sighed uncomfortably. "That's not to say I didn't have feelings for Michonne at the time, but we were still sorting through it all."

Carl's face appeared to be processing the information, but he wasn't sure it made sense to him. What was the point in having sex if you weren't in love? He had to be missing something. "So… why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Why did you and Michonne have sex if you didn't know how you felt about each other?"

"Well, because sometimes it's more about physical stimulation than emotional," Rick squinted, hoping that his son would leave it at that. This was quickly becoming the most awkward conversation he'd ever had, which was saying a lot.

"What?"

So much for him leaving it at that. "All right," Rick stopped walking, causing Carl to do the same. "You know how you felt about Beth for a while?"

Carl frowned, unaware that his dad ever had any clue about that. "Yeah…" he returned cautiously.

"Did you wanna kiss her?"

Carl found himself feeling shy all of a sudden. "Dad..."

"You wanted to have this discussion, let's have it," Rick chuckled, seeing the unease take over Carl's face. "Did you?"

"I mean… yeah. I guess so."

"Well, imagine that feeling, multiplied by ten. By twenty, even. And maybe you have a bunch of other feelings swirling around that you can't quite figure out. Sometimes, you act on one and say, 'I'll figure the rest out later.'"

"So that's what you and Michonne did."

"Pretty much," Rick admitted, resuming their walk. "We love each other. And maybe it was always there, but we're both pretty hardheaded, so it took a while for us to realize it."

Carl nodded thoughtfully. "Was it that way with Mom, too?"

"No," Rick exhaled as his thoughts shifted to Lori. "Your mom and I got married pretty young. I wasn't much older than you, honestly, and we thought we were just crazy in love from the very beginning."

"But you weren't?"

"No, we were. For a very long time," he assured him. "But when you start off so young, it's hard to stay that way. You change so much from your twenties to your thirties, it's almost like you end up married to a completely different person."

"That's why you and Mom started fighting all the time."

"Yeah, I suppose that was most of it," Rick recalled regretfully. "We did our best with what we knew, but the truth was… we didn't know anything."

Carl nodded as his blue gaze caught his dad's matching one. "Did you still love each other?"

"We did. Even in that last year together when things got really bad, I always loved your mother. It was just hard to like her after everything…"

"Because of Shane. Right?"

"It was because of me," he countered emphatically. "I had a lot of pent up anger because of what happened with Shane, but I can't blame that on him or your mom. I decided how to react to that."

"Yeah, but… Mom had sex with Shane, right?"

"She did…"

Carl's eyes flitted down as he received confirmation for what he thought was true for so long now. "Did you even know if Judith was your daughter?"

"Technically, no," Rick confessed quietly. He knew once she was born, having seen her big blue eyes, but he had prepared himself to raise Shane's baby. "It didn't matter, though. She was mine, no matter what."

Carl felt satisfied with their conversation. As much as he hated the weirdness surrounding it all, he liked that he was no longer in the dark about so many things. All he ever wanted was for his father to be honest with him, because that's all he ever was with Rick. "Hey, Dad?"

Rick chuckled lightly at how often his son said those two words in that exact intonation. "Yeah?"

"I'm not mad that you guys are having a baby. I'm just… sad."

Rick felt similarly, and understood where his kid was coming from, but wanted to see if Carl could articulate why. "Why's that?"

"I don't know, I just… it feels like you're replacing Judith," he answered softly. "And l know she can't be replaced. In my head, that sounds crazy. But my gut just feels like this is all wrong."

"Carl, I told you that's not possible. Your sister, whether she's alive or… gone, she's always gonna be Judith. We couldn't replace her if we tried. And you do a great disservice to whoever this kid is gonna be, by not acknowledging that he or she is their own person. You don't just replace someone; you make a new space for that person."

"Yeah, but how am I supposed to be happy about a new brother or sister when Judith is still… gone?"

"I don't know, son. I struggle with that myself."

"You do?"

"I do," he locked eyes with his son, their apprehensive stares almost identical. "I'm also scared of what'll happen when Michonne goes into labor. If it goes…" Rick couldn't even finish his sentence.

"I don't wanna be there," Carl supplied quietly. "I can't."

Rick rested a comforting hand on the kid's shoulder, letting him know that he understood. He wouldn't make Carl go through that again, not if he could help it. They continued their walk, their footsteps the only sound in the air.

They eventually made their way back to their camp, where Michonne had just finished folding their sleeping bags and hoped they found something the three of them could eat for breakfast. They'd been on the road almost a week now, and food was scarce. Rick always made sure she ate, but the further she was getting into this pregnancy, the hungrier she became.

"Anything?" she greeted them. They looked more tired than they did when they left, she noticed, but didn't have any noticeable haul to show for it.

Rick handed her a dirty, but unopened bag of barbecue potato chips. "Literally the only thing we could find. No houses in this area either."

She happily accepted the bag and pulled it open. The thought of fake barbecue powder was enough to make her throw up in her condition, but she was too hungry to care. "Y'all want some?"

"I already had some crackers for breakfast," Carl declined with a small smile.

Rick declined as well, knowing it was most important that she had something on her stomach. "I'm gonna set up a snare, maybe we'll get lucky and catch a rabbit for dinner."

She caught his eye and smiled warmly at him. "That would be divine."

* * *

"That was one small rabbit," Rick declared, finishing what was left of his dinner and throwing its bones into the fire. He and Michonne sat quietly on a couple of logs, while Carl rested in a nearby car so he could take watch later in the night.

"It was something," Michonne smirked. "Gotta hand it to the thing, it traveled well."

He smiled. "Have you noticed… that's all we talk about anymore. Food. Forgot what this feels like." Indeed, food was no longer an issue for them back at the prison. Now, it was their biggest.

"Me too," she admitted. "I hope we're able to forget again soon.

"We're close," Rick nodded. "Just gotta make it through another day." He began to put out their fire with his boot so they could prepare for bed themselves. "If folks there are taking people in, they have to be strong. They have to have a system."

Michonne still wasn't so sure about this place. The closer the got, the more she was questioning their decision. "I wonder if the whole thing's legit."

There was a sound in the woods that caused both of them to pause. Rick stood up, surveying the scene for walkers, or worse, but heard nothing else, so he sat back down. "We let people in," he continued their conversation.

"We did," she agreed, catching his eye. "So did The Governor."

"Yeah," he nodded again, having thought the same thing himself. "That's always the thing isn't it. We don't get to know until we know. Maybe this place isn't even there anymore."

Before he could even finish his thought, Rick felt the cold barrel of a gun against his temple and an unfamiliar man's voice in his ear. He froze in place. Michonne attempted to grab her katana, but another man had approached and kicked it out of the way before she could catch it. Several other men followed, surrounding the two of them with their guns drawn. They were trapped.

"You screwed up, asshole." The one with his gun on Rick seemed to be the leader of this whole operation. He seemed almost jovial at the fact that he'd caught his man. "Today is the day or reckoning, sir. Restitution. A balancing of the whole damn universe."

Rick glanced around the small group, trying to figure out what the reckoning was for. He kept his eyes on the man closest to Carl, but he realized that he recognized the guy with his gun on Michonne. These were the assholes from the house he'd been trapped in the other day. They were obviously there to get revenge for the one Rick had killed in the bathroom.

"Shit, and I was thinking of turning in for the night on New Year's Eve," the leader joked with a laugh. "Now who's gonna count down the ball dropper with me, huh?" He paused for a moment before he actually began to count. "Ten Mississippi. Nine Mississippi. Eight Mississippi-."

"Joe." Another voice came out of the woods, soon followed by the sight of Daryl and his crossbow. Rick and Michonne looked up, shocked, while Daryl looked on in terror, coming to the realization that just as he found his best friends alive, they were about to be killed. "Hold up," he pleaded.

"You're stopping me on eight, Daryl."

"Just hold up." He needed time. He needed a plan. He needed a way to get them out of this.

"This is the guy that killed Lou, so we got nothin' to talk about," one of the others piped up.

But Joe thought himself a reasonable man, he recognized that Daryl knew these people, so he let him speak. "The thing about nowadays is we got nothin' but time. Say your piece, Daryl."

He tried to talk them out of it by explaining to Joe that his people were good people. He even sacrificed himself to save them. But Joe was having none of it. If he wanted to align himself with Rick, he was going to pay the same price.

All hell broke loose after they began to beat Daryl up. One of them had pulled Carl out of the car and Rick knew then that they were all gonna have to die. And maybe that included him too, but nothing was going to happen to Carl or Michonne if he had anything to do with it.

While Joe went on in his ear, laughing about how he was going to torture him, Rick took that opportunity to headbutt the man, completely disorienting both of them. The gun Joe had been holding went off in his ear, completely setting off another side of Rick Grimes. He had spent an entire year tempering his rage, but it was about to come out in full force.

He got up as best he could, ready to fight Joe, but his bearings were so far gone that he couldn't keep up. All he wanted was to get to the motherfucker trying to rape his son, but Joe had him in a bearhug, not allowing him to move an inch.

"What the hell you gonna do now, sport?" he chided him.

Little did he know, he had awoken the bear. You can't mess with a man's son and expect him to just take it. Rick didn't even have to think about it. He sunk his teeth into Joe's throat and pulled out a chunk of his neck, spitting it out callously as the man sunk to the ground.

Everyone stopped in their tracks, stunned at the scene before them. Michonne and Daryl sprung into action, killing everyone that was left, while the man that had attempted to rape Carl was now scared shitless.

"I'll kill him," he threatened, holding a knife to Carl's neck.

Michonne was terrified herself. If anything happened to Carl, she wasn't sure what she would do. She kept her gun pointed on the man, but she wasn't sure she could hit him without hitting the kid. "Let the boy go," she demanded.

Rick was officially out of fucks to give. He had just killed a man with his teeth, and was literally covered in his blood, so one more fat bastard didn't mean anything to him. After he finished stabbing Joe in the head, he turned towards the son of a bitch that had come for his son. "He's mine," he announced coldly to the heat of the night.

Petrified of Rick headed in his direction, he let Carl go and began to plead for mercy. "Stay back. Please."

Rick wasn't hearing it. He gutted the man like a fish, pulling his knife from the man's abdomen, up to his throat, looking him in the eye the entire time. Then, for good measure, he stabbed him incessantly while the other three watched in a mixture of horror and relief.

* * *

A few hours later, after they cleared the bodies and the adrenaline from their systems, Michonne and Daryl sat outside their stationary SUV while Rick and Carl spoke privately inside. In all the excitement of the evening, she hadn't had a chance to process what it meant that Daryl was back with them. How much hope she had for the idea that the rest of them were out there somewhere.

"It's good to see you in once piece," she joked with him, remembering he would always say that when she returned from a run.

"After tonight, it's good to be in one piece," he returned, looking out into the forest. His body ached from the beating he took, but he was so damn glad to be alive, he didn't care.

She wondered of his whereabouts since leaving the prison. How he could've survived with such awful men. "You been with them the whole time?"

He shook his head slightly. "Nah, I was with Beth. We had a camp for a while, then we found this house… some kinda trap, it seemed like, in retrospect. But somebody took her. I tried to find her, but they had a car and I was on foot. I couldn't… I lost her."

Michonne looked down at the floor, unsure of what that could mean. Beth had always been very sweet to her, she hated to think of her in grave danger.

"Y'all look like you been doin' all right," Daryl noted. "All things considered, I mean."

"Just been goin' from house to house until we could reach Terminus," she shrugged. She considered telling him she was pregnant, but wasn't sure if Rick would want him to know yet, so she focused on their mission. "That where you were headed?"

"I didn't think it was real," he admitted quietly. "Still don't, really, but I guess it can't hurt to see."

"Let's hope not, anyway."

Silence fell over the two of them as they halfway listened to the sound of Rick's voice speaking to Carl. Daryl felt relieved to have some semblance of his family back, and was glad that the three of them had been together all this time, but he couldn't help but notice someone was missing. "No Judith, huh," he whispered.

Michonne shook her head sadly. "All they found was her car seat when they were trying to get out."

"That's a good sign…"

"It was bloody," she appended softly, her eyes closing at the very thought.

Daryl couldn't say anything in reply to that. The idea of Lil' Asskicker being eaten was too much to bear.

"But I still have hope that someone got her first. I don't know why, but… it's better than believing in nothin', I guess."

He nodded. "It's good y'all got out together."

"Why do you say that?" she glanced up at him.

"He needs you," he offered softly, unsure of how she would take that information. "He probably don't even know it, but he does."

She smiled at his words. He obviously wasn't aware of all the developments in their relationship since they'd left the prison, but she enjoyed that he recognized their bond regardless. "He does know it," she assured him. "And I need him, too."

Daryl caught her eye, trying to figure out if she was saying what he thought she was saying. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

* * *

The next morning, the four of them were back on the road in the final stretch toward Terminus. They were following the last bit of train tracks before they would head through the woods and keep an eye on the place for a while.

Rick and Michonne were at the front, while Daryl and then Carl brought up the rear. She watched Rick closely as they trudged through the forest, moved by how calm he had been about the entire ordeal. She always had her faith in him, but she'd seen his confidence transform literally overnight, and she knew that he finally understood that he could take care of them. She would've taken his hand in that moment if he hadn't had it in his pocket.

He noticed her watching him and looked back at her. "You okay?"

She nodded reassuringly. "Yeah." She was more than okay, really.

"I'm okay," he promised, knowing that she tended to worry about him. And after everything that went down the night before, he wouldn't have blamed her. But he really was fine with what he'd done.

"I know."

It baffled him how she was so sure of things before he even had the chance to think about them. "How?"

She looked him in the eye, wanting him to know that she appreciated everything he'd done. That this was the reason she trusted him with her life. Once again, they were alive and the other guys were dead. She didn't have to question the future, because he always came up with an answer. He would do literally anything to protect them. "Because I'm okay, too."


	6. terminus

**6: terminus**

On the outside, Terminus really did seem like it could be the answer to all their problems. It was clean, protected by fences, there was greenery surrounding it, and someone even standing at a grill, cooking. For all intents and purposes, it looked a lot like the prison. There weren't a lot of people roaming, but they chalked that up to the fact that it was still somewhat early.

"What do you think?" Rick asked Daryl, eyeing a young woman that had just retreated from a building. She was carrying blankets and a knife. Nothing particularly odd there.

"I think we gotta go in and see what they say, see how it feels. Ain't gonna find out much just by watchin'."

He looked back to Michonne, who was sharing their last bit of water with Carl. He knew she needed to eat. She'd already suffered through her daily round of morning sickness and knew her stomach had to be empty. "What do you think about us two goin' in ahead?" he asked her. "You and Carl can stay here, and if we don't-."

"I don't like it," Carl interrupted forcefully. Now that they'd found Daryl, the last thing he wanted to do was split up again. "We should stick together, Dad."

"He's right," she agreed. There would be nothing she could do if he was in there and she was out there. She didn't like the idea of that at all. "We go in there together. And if we die in there together, so be it."

"Ain't nobody dyin' today," Daryl retorted confidently. He hoisted his crossbow on his shoulder and gave the three of them a nod. "Let's go."

The four of them made their way over the fences and into what looked to the be the main building within a matter of minutes. There was a small group of young people that appeared to be working on maps, while an older woman sat solitarily at a desk, speaking into a microphone. At first glance, it all looked like some sort of tech startup.

Having gone unnoticed, Rick was the first to announce their presence. "Hello."

Everyone in the room turned to the voice, but a young man, no more than in his late twenties, asserted himself as the leader. "Well, I bet Albert is on perimeter watch," he noted sarcastically. He then looked at Rick and his group. "You here to rob us?"

"No," Rick returned genuinely. "We wanted to see you before you saw us."

"Makes sense." The young man got up and made his way towards the four of them as he spoke. "Usually we do this where the tracks meet. Welcome to Terminus," he proclaimed. "I'm Gareth." He glanced at each of them, taking notice of their bumps and bruises. They were obviously tired. "Looks like you've been on the road for a good bit."

"We have," he confirmed. "I'm Rick. That's Carl. Daryl. Michonne."

Gareth waved awkwardly, noting how stoic the four of them were. "You're nervous, I get it. We were all the same way." He seemed more like a party host than the leader of a survivalist group. "We came here for sanctuary. That what you here for?"

Rick eyed the guy, wondering how this buoyant young man had managed to become the one in charge. He already didn't really trust him, but he answered his question anyway. "Yes."

"Good. You found it." He called over another young man and explained that this wasn't how they usually did things. "This isn't as pretty as the front. We got nothing to hide, but the welcome wagon is a whole lot nicer."

Michonne zeroed in on his statement and glanced over to Rick to see if he was as wary as she was. Her philosophy was that people with nothing to hide didn't usually feel the need to say so. She really hoped Rick was at least a little skeptical at that point.

"Alex will take you, ask you a few questions," Gareth went on to say. "But first, we need to see everyone's weapons. If you could just lay them down in front of you."

They hesitantly did as told, going through the rigmarole of being frisked by Gareth's little friend. They were pleasantly surprised to be given their weapons back, however, and Rick wasn't sure what to make of this place.

They continued outside, where Alex spoke briefly with Daryl and Michonne, but Rick was careful to observe their surroundings closely. The whole place was still eerily empty until they arrived at the grill, where a few others dotted the patio area, eating what he presumed to be breakfast. The older woman they'd seen earlier greeted them with food, but Rick's mind instantly went haywire as he took in the scene.

A young man had just taken a seat with an orange backpack. _Orange bag. That bag looks mighty familiar. Looks like the bag we picked up on the road back from King County. Carl had it for a while. Why is it here?_

Another guy appeared near the grill, dressed head to toe in tactical riot gear over his regular clothing _. Riot gear. Glenn's riot gear. Glenn's riot gear plus the orange bag. Someone from the prison is here. Glenn's here._

Sitting a few feet away, a young lady was wrapped in a shawl as she pushed meat around her plate with a fork.  _The poncho. Daryl's poncho. Maggie had been wearing that thing for months. Maggie's here. Glenn's here._

_Or they were._

He wasn't sure what to do with all the information he'd collected in a very small amount of time. He was jumping to a lot of conclusions, and needed time to think through them all and formulate a plan. And he probably would've done exactly that if he hadn't spotted Hershel's watch. The watch he'd given to Glenn back when they were still at the farm. There was no doubt in his mind some foul shit had gone down, because there was no way in hell Glenn would've given that up without a fight. Rick was done playing games.

He knocked the plate that was being offered to him from Alex's hands, grabbed the watch, and pulled his new adversary into a headlock, holding him at gunpoint. "Where the hell'd you get this watch?" he demanded.

Daryl, Michonne, and Carl all sprung into action, their weapons locked and loaded on the surrounding people without a second thought. A sniper appeared out of virtually nowhere, as well as several other Termites, brandishing guns.

Rick knew the place had been too quiet, that there would be others lurking in the shadows. But he didn't care, he wanted answers. "Where the hell did you get this watch?"

"You want answers? You want anything else? You get 'em when you put down the gun," Alex returned shakily.

"I see your man on roof with the sniper rifle. How good's his aim?" Rick threatened. "Where'd you get the watch?" His hostage remained silent, and his patience was getting extremely low as a result. "Where'd you get the watch!" he yelled.

"Don't do anything," Alex called out to the sniper. "I have this! Just put it down!" He then went back to trying to reason with Rick. "You wanna listen to me. There's a lot of us."

Rick didn't give a damn. "Where. did you get. the watch."

"I got it off of a dead one. I didn't think he'd need it."

He nodded, knowing the guy was lying through his teeth. "What about the riot gear? The poncho?"

Suddenly, Gareth appeared on the scene. "Got the riot gear off a dead cop. Found the poncho on a clothesline."

"Gareth, we can wait," Alex pleaded.

"Shut up, Alex."

"You talk to me," Rick demanded of Gareth.

"What's there left to say? You don't trust us anymore."

Alex continued to try and interject. "Gareth-."

"Shut. up," he commanded his comrade, raising his hand. "It's okay. It's okay." He looked Rick in the eyes, his hand still raised. "Rick, what do you want?"

Rick immediately recognized that as some kind of signal, so he watched him carefully as he answered. "Where are our people?" he growled.

"You didn't answer the question," Gareth countered, quickly closing his hand into a fist.

Knowing that he was likely about to be executed, Rick was able to maneuver himself out of the way so that Alex took the bullet. Gareth stood there, smirking, as if he were impressed with the man in front of him.

Rick hated this smug asshole. He pointed his gun at the sniper that had just tried to shoot him, hitting him square in the chest, knowing the bulletproof best would catch it, but successfully incapacitate him for a while. He then zeroed in on Gareth, specifically at the hand he'd just held up so confidently to kill him, and pulled the trigger. He shot off two of Gareth's fingers without hesitating.

"What the fuck!" Gareth screamed. He was in shock and in pain as he realized what had just happened.

Rick moved in so that they were face to face, warning him that if anything happened to him or his family, he would be the one who regretted it. "Tell them to put their weapons down or I put one in your kneecap."

Gareth was doubled over in pain while his troop looked on in horror. "Put 'em down!" he shouted. "Do not shoot!"

"Now, you ready to talk, or you wanna keep playing games?"

"You're insane!" Gareth realized, pulling off his jacket to cover his hand.

Rick didn't take his eyes or his gun off of the man in front of him. "Yeah, I'm fuckin' demented." His words came out faster than his brain could catch them. "Fair warning, that's my son, that's my wife, and that's my brother," he gestured towards Carl, Michonne, and Daryl. "You wanna see if it runs in the family?"

Daryl looked over at Michonne, wondering if he'd missed something, noticing that she had an odd smirk on her face. It certainly wasn't the time or place to focus on it, but he would definitely be bringing that up once they got out of this mess. And with Rick at the helm, he was certain they would.

"What do you want from us, Rick?"

"We want our people."

"I don't even know who your people are…"

"You wanna die today, Gareth?" Rick moved closer to him and put his gun between his eyebrows. "Stop. fucking. with. me."

"I suggest you listen to him," Michonne called out. She knew he was lucky Rick hadn't already killed him.

"Okay," he held up both hands in surrender, trying to ignore the pain and the blood that was oozing from his right. "Put down your weapons, I'll bring them out."

"No fuckin' way," Daryl interjected. He still had his crossbow pointed at Mary's eye. "Bring 'em out or we start shootin'."

"There are way more of us than there are of you," Gareth reminded him.

"Do we look like we give a fuck?" Rick inquired angrily.

It was a little clearer to Gareth why this group had shown up with so many bruises. They were obviously out of their minds. He was beginning to feel like he was up against Rorschach. He needed to find a way to assert himself as the leader again before all his people were following this asshole.

"Fine. You want your people?" Gareth relented. He signaled for one of his lackeys and instructed to him, "Bring out everybody in boxcar A." He looked at Rick, hoping that would cause him to back down a bit. "Can you please remove your gun from my face?"

Rick intentionally ignored his request, turning ever so slightly to make sure that Carl, Michonne and Daryl were all right. He caught Michonne's eye and she nodded at him, almost imperceptibly, letting him know that she was with him, wherever he decided to go with this. She trusted him wholly.

He focused back on Gareth, but could see a line of people approaching in the background. He began to lower his gun, but gave Gareth a forceful warning before doing so. "You try anything, it's over for you."

"Yeah, I got it, Rick."

Slowly, several of their friends came into view. Glenn, Maggie, Sasha, Bob. And then four people they didn't know. All of them appeared dirty, weak, almost emaciated, and bewildered by their surroundings.

"Rick?" Glenn was pleasantly shocked to find his friend standing in front of him.

"You all right?" he asked them.

"We're still alive," Maggie replied as optimistically as she could. She barely had the energy to stand, but she was so relieved to see her friends again; to be out of that train car they'd been locked in.

"Any of our other people here?" He wasn't sure whether he wanted Judith to be there or not, but maybe they'd seen Beth or Tyreese.

"Not that we've seen."

Rick looked back to Gareth, who was trying to slowly back away from his gun. "I'll take off your toe if you move another inch," he warned him.

"Look, you see your people are all right. What do you want now?"

"Why were they locked in a boxcar?"

"You don't get to ask those questions."

"Oh yeah? What do I get then?"

Gareth snapped with his free hand, and suddenly, guns were pointed on all eight of the people that had just come out of captivity. "You keep threatening me, I kill every single one of them."

"And then we kill every single one of you. That what you want?"

"I wanted to give you sanctuary. You're the one that came in here pointing your gun at my people."

"You had my people locked in a train car! From the looks of things, you haven't even been feeding them."

"They've been giving us powdered milk," Sasha inserted angrily. "That's it."

Rick eyed Gareth, waiting for an answer. "That's what you call sanctuary?"

"It's better than being out there, isn't it?"

"You wanna lose the rest of your fingers for being a smart ass?"

Gareth cocked his head to the side and a gunshot went off. Before they knew it, Bob had fallen to the ground.

"No!" Maggie screamed.

it seemed to take place in slow motion once they realized what had happened. Blood splashed across Sasha's face and she looked on in horror as it registered that Bob had been shot in the head. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at Maggie, then Daryl, and then back down at Bob. He was gone in an instant.

"Fuckin' shit," one of the new guys, Abraham, declared, watching as blood pooled the ground at his feet.

"Rick…" Michonne called back to him calmly, her eyes also locked on Bob in disbelief. "What are we doing."

"You're not doing anything," Gareth answered for him coolly, looking his main adversary dead in the eye. "I told you if you threatened me again, you would be sorry."

Rick matched his stare, but didn't say anything. There was nothing left to say. This kid was the one that would be sorry. A creepy smile spread across his features as he thought of how he was going to kill him.

Gareth had other plans, however. Rick seemed like a formidable opponent, but he hadn't become the leader of this place by just rolling over for every threat he encountered. "You very well may be crazy, Rick. But it seems you didn't account for the fact that I am, too."


	7. try me

**7: try me**

The standoff had turned to a conference, with Rick and Gareth sitting at a table in an empty room, staring at one another. Rick had Michonne, Carl and Glenn at his side, while Gareth had Mary, a young man named Sam, and a young lady, Denise, sitting beside him.

Rick was visibly frustrated. His eyes stayed narrowed on Gareth, along with his gun, but he had been done with the whole ordeal from the moment Bob was killed. He'd made up his mind that Gareth had to die - it was simply a matter of when. This conversation he'd agreed to was a formality and a means to get his people out of the line of fire.

"Okay. I guess I'll start it off," Gareth announced, almost cheerfully, noting Rick's silence. His hand had since been bandaged and he kept it on the table as he looked at Rick. "I'm sorry I killed your man."

Rick continued to stare at him eerily.

"And here's where you say, 'Gareth, I'm sorry for shooting a hole into your hand.'"

No response. His companions didn't say anything either.

"Rick, I thought you wanted to talk."

Rick leaned in, his icy stare going through the man in front of him. "I wanna talk about why you locked my friends in a hot boxcar and starved them nearly to death. And that's just the tip of the iceberg."

"That's just how we do things," he shrugged offhandedly.

"Yeah, I see how you do things. You killed your own man out there today."

"Well technically, you did that."

" _Technically_ , you did."

"Technically-."

Rick was rolling his eyes before he could complete his sentence. "I'm not gonna sit here and argue semantics with you. What do I do to get my people out of here safely?"

"We both know what happens if I let you walk out those doors."

"We move on with our lives and you go on torturing other clueless people," he suggested.

Gareth laughed, almost maliciously, but rejected the notion. "Nice try." If these people didn't bring back an army to kill them, the least they would do is stop others from coming, and he couldn't have that. "What else you got?"

"Why do you want us here?" Carl had to know. He hadn't said more than a word since they arrived at Terminus, but he had observed everything. He didn't understand the purpose in all their shenanigans. "We obviously don't like you, and you don't like us. What's the point?"

"You wouldn't understand, kid."

"Try me."

"You might wanna control this one," Gareth directed to Rick.

Rick smirked at his son, glad that he wasn't even remotely scared of these assholes. "I think he asked you a question."

"I don't answer to children."

"Good thing I'm not a child then, isn't it," Carl retorted coldly.

"Rick…"

"You're the one that proposed this talk," Rick reminded him. "You don't like my suggestion, you tell us what you want."

"I want us to come to an understanding."

"You want me to understand that we can't leave here? That's not gonna happen."

"We have plenty of space for you. Rooms, clothes, food. We can make this work."

"I don't trust you as far as I could throw you, Gareth."

"I know," he nodded. "I know. I get it. But what other option do you have?"

Rick considered this, wondering if this truly was the only option he had. He could take the room and board for a while, at least, until he could concoct a plan to escape. But he'd never be able to sleep inside these walls, not after what he'd seen. It would've been like taking refuge at Woodbury. "My son's right. Why would you want us here?"

"Your group is obviously very smart, very capable. I'd be an idiot to not want you on my side in this whole thing."

"What 'whole thing' is that?" Michonne frowned.

"It's us against the world now. I have a fundamental understanding of that, above all else, and I know that you and your group do too," he looked her in the eye as he spoke. "We clearly started off on the wrong foot. I regret that..."

"That's an understatement," Carl mumbled in annoyance.

"But I see now that you're not to be trifled with. And you and your people would only make this place stronger."

"Don't patronize me," Rick countered angrily.

"I'm not, I swear," he looked back at Rick genuinely. "There's a real threat out there. We shouldn't needlessly be one to each other."

Glenn had been sitting quietly in observance throughout the whole discussion. He felt too weak to truly focus on all the words being thrown around, but his mind was spinning as he thought through what kind of options they did have. "What if there was a way to get rid of the threat?" he eventually interjected.

Rick and Michonne looked at him curiously, while Gareth frowned. "What?"

"The walkers, I mean. What if someone had a cure to this virus? What if one of us had the tools to save the entire world?"

"Okay, well while we're talking pipe dreams, what if I were Brad Pitt?"

"I'm serious," Glenn glared at Gareth. "The guy out there with the mullet? His name's Eugene and he's a scientist. He was headed to Washington, D.C. to get started with working on the cure for this thing."

The entire room was frowning now, trying to gauge whether Glenn could possibly be serious.

"Why did you stop here then?" Mary finally spoke.

"Because we lost the tank we were in, and decided to come here to check for any of our people before we tried to get back on the road. We were even gonna see if anyone here wanted to join us on our mission."

Rick wasn't sure whether he was serious or bullshitting, so he kept his mouth shut.

Gareth already seemed extremely interested in the prospect. "You for real?"

"I swear on everything," Glenn held up his hand. "You let us go to Washington, you could be saving all of mankind."

Gareth pulled his walkie-talkie to his lips, noting that Rick pulled his gun closer into view as he did, but he continued to speak. "Steven, could you bring the mullet guy in here?"

None of them knew what to think, what to say in the current moment, so they stayed silent. Rick could only imagine Glenn was full of it, but there seemed to be a possibility that it would get them out of this. Meanwhile, Gareth thought of what it meant to have a hand in curing this thing.

Within a few seconds, Eugene appeared, dazed and confused, staring at the only person in the room he knew. "Hello," he greeted them.

"Eugene?" Gareth answered.

Eugene nodded nervously.

"Sit."

He did as told, making sure to sit on the side of the table with Glenn and the guy that seemed to be leading them now. "What can I do for you?"

"Glenn says you know how to cure this thing. That true?"

"It is," he drawled apprehensively. "We were on our way to Washington when our tank was shot to hell and we got sidetracked. The big guy out there and the little Latina? They've been escorting me since I left Texas."

"What's in Washington? Why can't you do it here?"

"There are people there waiting for me, people I was doing research with before all communication went to shit. We left Houston over three weeks ago; the last satellite radio I had died about two days before we got here."

"Shit," Gareth sat back in his seat, looking over to Mary to see what she thought. She looked to be just as intrigued by the notion as he was. "So how do you get to Washington without your tank?"

"Well, if we ever get out of here, I suppose we find a car and hope for the best."

"What about food, water, gas…" Mary wondered.

"Honestly, we were hoping we might find that here," Glenn admitted. "But we were gonna go, we would've figured it out, either way."

Gareth went silent again, contemplating whether this was a workable plan, whether he could trust them, whether any of this was even true. It sounded legit, given the fact that Glenn and Eugene had nearly the same story, but he didn't know how he could be sure.

"How many people do you need for this mission?"

Eugene shrugged. "It's hard to say. We started with eleven, but our group's gotten down to as little as three."

"Well you can only fit five people in a typical car. You can take the big guy, you can take Glenn. And you can take Daryl and Michonne."

"No fucking way," Rick interjected forcefully. Gareth was trying to split up his family, split up Glenn and Maggie too. There was no way in hell he was going to allow that. "Either we all go, or none of us do."

"You sure that's how you wanna play this, Rick?"

"I'm sure you're not splittin' us up. Are you insane?"

"I thought we already established that I am."

"Well then come with us," Rick offered. "You don't trust us, we don't trust you, let's all go on the road together."

"That sounds like the perfect way to get myself killed."

"You can bring your people to protect you."

"Rick, it's not gonna happen."

"Why's that? Too crazy for your tastes?"

Gareth knew Rick was instigating, but he found himself wanting to take him up on the offer. It would certainly be dangerous to bring any of his people out on the road with such a hothead, but they would forever be stuck in a standstill if they didn't come to a compromise soon.

"All right."

Rick's side of the table looked to Gareth in surprise, almost in disbelief that he finally agreed to something that would allow them out of there. "We have a deal?"

"We do," Gareth nodded. "At dawn, we ride," he declared jokingly. No one responded, but looked at him as if he were stupid. He quickly sobered up and rearranged his statement. "We'll leave first thing in the morning."

* * *

The deal between the Termites and Rick's group resulted in the survivors being afforded real room and board for the night. Gareth gave them full use of the kitchen to prepare their own food, at Rick's insistence, and their own wing of their housing facility, mainly because he didn't trust Rick not to kill him in the middle of the night.

Dinner had been a somewhat odd experience. Rick was finally able to meet the new people that had apparently joined his crew - Abraham, Eugene, Rosita, and Tara. Glenn had explained how he found them on the road, looking for Maggie, but Rick was very clear that Tara had been a part of The Governor's group that attacked the prison. But he also remembered that she appeared scared shitless at the time, and Glenn insisted that she'd helped save his life, so he wasn't going to use that moment to bring it up. Still, he was just as wary of her as he was the Termites. The other three seemed fine, if not a bit weird, and they willingly stood beside him in this, so he would give them a chance.

Beyond that, they ate with minimal conversation. They were in mourning over the loss of their friend Bob, but they also couldn't be sure of how this plan would pan out, being on the road with Gareth and his people. It was certainly better than being trapped at Terminus, but it was still a dangerous proposition.

"I want you all to try and get a good night's sleep," Rick announced quietly to his crew before they dispersed for the evening. "I know you've gotta be tired. But I need you alert, I need you focused out there on the road." He secretly hoped they would be able to find somewhere to rest for a few days once they got away from that place, but his main focus was indeed getting out of Terminus. "Michonne and I inspected all the rooms, everything appears to be fine, but if you see anything out of the ordinary –  _anything,_ " he emphasized, "you let me know."

The group nodded in unison, but Abraham had a question. "We got anybody takin' watch?"

"I'm gonna handle that for the night. You guys need your rest."

"Rick, we can take turns," Maggie suggested. "A couple hours for each of us won't kill us."

He'd considered it, but he hated asking them to do anything more after all they'd been through. "I can't ask you to do that."

"That's exactly what you ask of us," Abraham countered proudly. "We're a group now. We're in this together, we split the work evenly."

"Y'all haven't eaten in days-"

"It's not an option for me, sir."

Rick could already tell he and Abraham were gonna butt heads, but so long as it stayed over minor things like this, he could stomach it. If they wanted to work, he wasn't going to argue with them. "That what you all want?" Everyone agreed that they would rather take watch in shifts than have him carry the load. "All right," he was almost grinning, proud of his group and the responsibility they took for themselves. "I'll give you your assignments after dinner."

* * *

The evening had turned to night and the group was getting situated in what they called their dormitory, given how much they resembled college living quarters. Each room contained two cots, blankets, pillows, toiletries, a change of clothing, and their own half bathrooms. Showers were located at the end of a long hallway, where they were even treated to some lukewarm water and even some waterproof radios. The creature comforts reminded them a lot of the prison.

As they got settled, Rick naturally assumed that he would be sharing his room with Carl, but was surprised when his son asked if he could bunk with Daryl.

"Nobody should be on their own tonight," Carl was telling him. With Eugene staying with Abraham and Rosita, the numbers were uneven otherwise. "Plus, you and Michonne should have your own room."

Rick didn't like the idea of his son being away from him in this strange place, but Carl was right – he didn't want any of them bunking alone. And Daryl would look after him just as well as he or Michonne would. "All right," he relented. His kid was growing up so fast, it was almost painful to see. "You follow his lead, you hear me?"

"I know," Carl nodded. "We're taking first watch, so I'll be right outside your door for the first few hours."

Rick didn't know if that was supposed to make him feel better, but he knew he couldn't treat his son like a kid forever, so he let it go. "Go on, take your shower," he smiled softly. "Be careful."

"I will, Dad."

Back inside his quarters, he found Michonne, who had just returned from her own shower, dressed adorably in a t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts that she was pulling the tags off of as he walked in.

"Sucks that they're such assholes. This would be a pretty nice play to stay," she joked.

"It does feel good to be clean," he agreed with a smile, enjoying how beautiful his girlfriend looked in the small light of the room. She was glowing.

"Come sit," she patted the spot next to her on one of their beds. He looked positively exhausted and she wanted nothing more than to massage him to sleep.

"I gotta go do rounds, make sure everyone's okay."

"You gotta come over here and sit with me," she countered.

"I can't-."

"Rick, everyone's fine. You said they needed rest, let them rest."

"I don't think Sasha's fine…"

"She's with Maggie. She's been with Maggie. There's nothing you can say that she hasn't heard from her already," she insisted gently. "You can't fix everything, babe."

He nodded to himself. He knew that was true, but it didn't mean he wasn't going to try. He couldn't handle the feeling of being unhelpful, being idle – it was why he'd stepped up as leader in the first place. It was all he knew.

He did finally do as told and took a seat with Michonne, but he couldn't see himself resting anytime soon. So many things were on his mind. "You think they're listening in on us?"

"Probably," she smirked tiredly. She jokingly waved to the lamp in the corner, as if it were a camera - for all she knew, it really was one. "Hi, Gareth!"

"That's not funny," he chuckled.

"Funny to me," she shrugged, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's quiet here," she noticed. "Not like the prison."

"The prison got quiet sometimes. Late at night."

"Yeah, very late. When we used to sneak to the tombs," she remembered fondly.

"Those were some good nights," he grinned. He fell in love with her in those tombs. "I really miss that place."

"Hey. We'll find a new place," she assured him softly. "Maybe it's in Washington."

He scoffed at the thought, but he didn't want to sound like an asshole, so he made an attempt at agreeing. "Maybe so…"

"You never sound convincing when you say that, you know."

"Probably because I'm never convinced." He popped up from his seat suddenly, headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth before bed. He was surprised when she followed after him. "I was gonna come back," he chuckled.

"I know." She wrapped her hands around his waist and leaned into his back, reveling in being close to him again after such a turbulent couple of days.

He closed his eyes and did the same, loving the feel of her embrace. He'd been so immersed in such violence the past few days, the tenderness was more than welcome. He held onto her hand that rested at his waist. "I love you," he whispered.

"Well I'm your wife, apparently, so you better."

"You caught that, huh?" He turned to face her, glad that she had a smile on her face. He knew there was a big chance that would've put her off, but it came out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying.

"Yeah, I caught that," she nodded teasingly. "That escalated quickly."

"It did, didn't it?" He turned to spit in the sink and then faced her again, planting a quick kiss on her nose.

His eyes bored into hers for more than a few seconds and she wondered what he was thinking. He was always thinking, she knew, but she wanted to try and relax him for a moment. And maybe it was her raging hormones, but everything she'd seen from Rick in the prior two days had turned her on beyond belief. She kissed at his neck, pulling at the hem of his shirt as she tasted him.

Her kisses felt so good, but he knew exactly where this was headed. "You know they're probably watching us," he smiled regretfully.

"Then let's give 'em a show." She pulled her shirt over her head, her perky breasts falling into view for Rick's pleasure, and gave him a smirk.

He smiled widely at the sight. They had already gotten plumper in the few weeks she'd been pregnant. "Really?"

She loved that no matter how many times he'd seen it, he always reacted to her body as if it was the 8th Wonder of the World. "You're a mess," she grinned.

He hoisted her onto the counter, hungrily taking one of her breasts into his mouth while he fondled the other softly. Her hands tangled themselves in his hair while her legs wrapped around his slim waist. She could feel him slowly hardening against her and she smiled at the sensation. There were few things that felt better to her than a hard Rick Grimes.

"Kiss me," she quietly demanded. She missed the feel of his lips on hers. It had only been a couple of days, but she had gotten used to him doing it constantly while they were on the road. He obliged with a slow, passionate kiss, covering her lips with his before fervently filling her mouth with his tongue. She could only respond with a soft moan into him.

Rick's hands finally left her breasts to pull at her shorts, playfully squeezing at her ass as he did so. He loved the feel of it in his hands. Her panties were drying on a rack a few feet away, so he knew there was nothing else separating him from her awaiting pussy. His kisses moved down her torso, tonguing her bikini line and eventually found her center, licking lightly at her clit and lapping at the surrounding wetness. He smiled at the taste, her being sweeter than he remembered. "Mmm," he groaned into her. The vibration of his voice, along with the tickle of his beard between her thighs drove her insane.

"Ohh fuck, come back up here," she instructed in a whimper, knowing she'd be done for the night if he didn't stop soon.

Hesitantly, he stopped licking and sucking at her lips down there and retuned to the ones on her face, enjoying those just as much. "You're bossy tonight," he smiled into her mouth.

Michonne responded by pulling off his shirt and kissing across his torso while his hands gravitated back to her behind. She wrapped her legs around him once again, and started to grind against him, knowing he wouldn't be able to wait much longer. She slowly lowered his sweats with her feet and grinned happily when his dick came into view. "There it is."

"You're silly," he chuckled, kissing at her collarbone.

"I'm horny," she retorted in a hushed tone. She didn't wait for him, but took him into her hand, inserting his cock exactly where she wanted it. They both groaned loudly at the sensation. She felt as though she had gotten tighter or he'd gotten bigger since the last time they fucked, but it was an even better sensation than she remembered.

Rick obviously felt the same because he took a moment to enjoy the hot, wet tautness before he began to thrust into her. His stroke was fluid, it was rhythmic; there was a cadence to it that Michonne countered with moving in figure eights around his dick. It was the most tantalizing thing either of them had ever experienced. It only reminded her of how perfect they were together.

"Yes," she was gasping repeatedly, grasping at the hair at the nape of his neck. She wanted the moment to never end.

The sound of her moans in his ear, the feel of her tits bouncing against his chest, it was pushing him over the edge. He was pounding into her hard now, even the mirror behind them had begun to shake in excitement. He was gonna be done for soon and he knew it. "Come for me, baby," he whispered.

She was panting, trying to hold off for as long as she could, trying to make the moment last, but his words, in that sexy low whisper, it was over for her. There was an eruption in her core as he brought her to climax. "Yes," she moaned loudly against him. "I fucking love you."

He couldn't help but smile at her words before coming himself. He kissed her sloppily as his thrusts came to a slow halt and he emptied into her fully. "Goddamn," he grinned in satisfaction, giving her one last kiss before he pulled out to wipe himself.

Michonne leaned back against the mirror tiredly, trying to regain her composure, along with the feeling in her legs. "Goddamn is right," she sighed. She couldn't believe how good he made her feel, even with all the disaster surrounding them. She watched as he pulled his pants back on, and he looked so sexy in just his sweats, she wasn't sure she would get through the night without wanting seconds. "Hey," she called out to him.

He moved so that he was back in front of her, standing between her legs yet again. "Hey."

He had gone right back to being preoccupied, she noticed. "You okay?"

He nodded, gazing into her eyes almost sadly.

This was the price she paid for falling in love with the leader, she guessed. She was used to knowing what was on his mind, but these days, there was so much, it was hard for her to sort through it all. She couldn't read him the way she was used to doing. "Don't take this all on alone," she pleaded. "I'm in this with you. We all are."

"I know," he nodded, trying to offer a smile. Instead, he gave her his shirt to throw on over her naked torso. "I'm just thinkin'."

"Tell me something I don't know," she smirked. She held his hands, willing him to say whatever it was that was obviously on his mind.

After a few seconds of thought, he finally obliged. "You know I'd do anything to protect you and Carl, right?"

"You'd do anything to protect all of us," she countered with a knowing, comforting smile. "That's why they follow you."

"Yeah..." he sighed heavily. "I hope they're ready to follow me down a dark road." Their entwined hands rested on her thighs as he thought through this impending trip. He just couldn't see a way around it. Gareth and his group were a liability.

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

Not wanting to risk being heard any further, he leaned in to Michonne as closely as he could, whispering so quietly into her ear, it was almost silent. "We're gonna have to kill these people."

She pulled back, still frowning as she looked him in the eye. She gave his hand a squeeze and her expression softened as she began to nod. "Then that's what we'll do."


	8. we found love in a hopeless place

**8: we found love in a hopeless place**

It was close to 6:00 AM when Rick, Gareth, and their respective groups left Terminus and were headed for Washington, DC. Everyone was on edge, as no one trusted the other, but Rick and his people were just relieved to be outside of Gareth's territory. They had ample food and water, and even a good bit of ammo, which was a pretty good start. They just needed to find vehicles.

Carl and Michonne stayed close to Rick up front, while Daryl and Abraham kept watch from the rear, a keen eye always on Gareth and his group amongst them.

"Dad, where are we gonna find enough cars for all… twenty of us?" Carl had thought about this all night and couldn't come up with anything that seemed plausible.

Carl had no idea of Rick's plan to eliminate Gareth and his group before they hit the road, but the truth was, he wasn't sure where he'd find cars for even the eleven of them. "I don't know, son. I'm hopin' the closer we get to Atlanta, the more cars'll be available."

"We're going back to Atlanta?"

"Not to it, but we're gonna have to head in that direction to get to DC."

"Sounds dangerous," Michonne noted cautiously, instinctively tightening the grip she had on her katana. The last time she was in Atlanta, her whole life fell apart. She had been avoiding the city since, and just didn't want to take that chance again. "There's no way around it?"

"Depends on how quickly we find cars," Rick shrugged, looking back at her. He noticed the unease on her face and discreetly grabbed her free hand to hold. "We'll be okay," he promised.

She offered him a soft smile, glad that he felt confident in that. "Okay."

"Dad, how far is it from here to DC?"

"Well, it's a little over six hundred miles," he remembered from a drive he took there several years prior. "Back in the day, that meant a nine or ten hour drive. But now…"

"It's gonna be a while," Carl knew.

"Hey!" a voice towards the back of the troop called out.

Rick recognized it as Daryl's and stopped walking immediately, turning to see what was wrong. "Everything all right?"

"Just hold up a minute," he called back, maneuvering his way towards the front of the group. He approached Rick with a bloody trench knife in his hand, and a frown on his face. "We gotta stop."

Rick looked at him, confused. They had just gotten started. "What the hell for?"

"This here is Carol's knife." He knew because he'd given it to her, had even scratched her initials into the hilt. He would've recognized it anywhere. "She gotta be close."

Rick only squinted at the information. He wasn't sure what to say.

"I ain't leavin' this state without lookin' for her," he answered Rick's unasked question.

"Daryl, we're not splittin' up."

"Y'all can stop if you want to, but I can't abandon her again." He looked Rick in the eye, knowing his words would sting him a bit. They'd been through too much for him to harp on the fact that he'd banished Carol, but that didn't mean he'd forgotten about it.

"We haven't been on the road an hour. You can't really expect me to tell them we're stoppin'."

"Like I said," Daryl backed away as he stuffed the knife into his back pocket, "y'all can do what you want, but I gotta look for her. She was probably tryin' to find her way to Terminus."

"Ah, fuck," Rick sighed heavily. He wasn't willing to split them up, so that meant they were about to embark on a search for Carol. As much as he trusted Daryl, he hated that he was detouring their journey based solely on his hunch that this was her knife. "You better be right about this," he moved in close to Daryl to warn him. "The more time we're on the road with these Terminus people, the more danger we're in."

Daryl nodded. "I wouldn't do this if I didn't know it was her."

Rick relented, much to his chagrin, and let their group know what the new plan was. He knew Gareth wanted to protest, but was glad that he thought better of it. He would take the rear now, while Daryl led the group.

Their search went on for hours, as the sun moved toward the middle of the sky and beyond, beating down on the travelers, as well as their energy. His people were still recovering from their time in the train car, so Rick didn't want to push them too hard. And he was getting hungry himself, so he knew Michonne had to be in need of a break.

"Hey, tell Daryl we need to stop and eat," he announced to Glenn, who would pass the information forward. Word came back that there was a church just up ahead and they could possibly stop there for the evening. "God, I hope it's not full of walkers," he sighed. He'd had his fair share of zombie-slaying for the day.

The church had clearly been well kept, they could see as they approached. It was clean, the weeds around it were at a minimum, and even flowers grew near the entrance. It looked almost too pristine to exist in the hell they'd been living in. Daryl, Maggie, and Abraham were preparing to enter first and clear any possible walkers, when the front door swung open. A black man dressed as a priest stepped out, his hands raised in surrender.

"Please," he greeted them tensely. "I have nothing to give you. Just go."

"We're not here to hurt you," Rick announced, stepping towards the center of the group, holstering his gun. "Just lookin' for shelter for the night."

"I wish I could help you," he returned earnestly. "But I can't."

"Seems you've got plenty of space. Even if it's a room, we'll take it."

"You don't understand," he looked over his shoulder as if he was scared of something. "I've got a baby in there, and a mother that will kill you before she allows anyone near her. Your best course of action would be to just go."

Rick immediately admired this mother's resolve, but he couldn't allow that to stop him. "We're not hostile people unless threatened. We won't go anywhere near her or her child," he promised. "My people just need a good night's sleep, somewhere safe, before we get back on the road."

"I really don't have a choice in the matter, sir."

"You a real priest?" Rick asked him pointedly.

"Yes, sir, I am." He held out his right hand and offered it to the man in front of him. "Father Gabriel."

"Well, Father, this is my son," he gestured towards Carl. "And like that lady in there, I'd do anything to protect him. And I think if I could talk to her, she would understand that."

"You don't know this lady," Father Gabriel smiled nervously. "She is a very… determined woman, and-."

He was cut off by the sound of the particular lady's voice. "It's fine." Everyone looked up to the sound, shocked to find Carol coming into view. She had Judith in her arms. "They're fine," she told the clergyman.

Rick stood, speechless, as he watched her retreat from the church. He thought he was seeing things as his eyes locked on his daughter, alive and more than well. He held the bridge of his nose, trying to shake away what had to be a mirage.

But indeed, Carol came straight to him and handed over his very real baby. "She's been looking for you."

He looked at Carol gratefully as he took Judith into his arms, tears blurring his vision before he could even get a good look at her. He couldn't believe it. He had given up hope when she wasn't at Terminus, yet there she was. She was living proof that no matter how bleak things seemed to be, there was always, always something to live for. "Hi, baby girl," he grinned. He cradled her in his arms, staring into her happy blue eyes as his tears dropped over her.

Carl stood in disbelief, as well. He'd had so many dreams about finding Judith safe and sound, he, too, couldn't be sure that this was all real. "It's really her," he marveled with a giant smile adorning his face. He kissed at her tiny foot, never taking his eyes off of her face. "I've missed you."

As they all watched the scene unfold, the relief from everyone was palpable. Not only that Judith was safe and sound, but so was Carol, and she had essentially saved the day. As they all embraced and cried and were able to finally be joyous about something, Tyreese rounded the corner of the church, toting a duffel bag.

"Holy shit," he proclaimed, seeing the huge group in front of him, realizing that his friends had somehow found them.

Sasha ran into her brother's arms while Daryl and Carol had their own quiet embrace, and it seemed that the reunion was in full force. Gareth and his group respectfully stood in the background while Abraham and Rosita kept a close eye on them. Meanwhile, Michonne simply couldn't take her eyes off of Rick and Judith.

"Are you okay?" Carl asked when he saw the tears streaming down her face.

"I'm good," she promised, smiling from ear to ear as she watched Rick kiss his baby girl incessantly. She wasn't sure that this moment would ever come for him, but now that it had, it felt like it was happening to her, too.

"Come here, Carl," Rick called for his son. He glanced over at Michonne, offering her a wink as the three of them walked away from the commotion of all the reuniting, heading towards the quiet of the train tracks.

"It's almost too good to be true," Carl grinned, staring into they eyes of his baby sister. He wondered if she had any clue they'd been separated, like maybe on some subconscious baby level, she had missed him as much as he missed her.

"It is," Rick agreed. He quickly checked her for any bumps or bruises, relieved to find she hadn't been in any pain, besides perhaps her teething. He looked up to the sky, silently thanking God for watching out for her. This was a true miracle.

"I think fate led us to her," Carl decided, seemingly reading his father's mind. "Like, think about all the things that had to happen to lead us here."

Rick smiled thoughtfully at the idea. "You wanna hold her?"

Carl nodded and took her into his arms carefully. She was heavier than he remembered, and that was probably a good thing. "She looks healthy."

"Yeah," Rick nodded himself, taking a seat on the tracks, watching as his son did the same. "She looks happy…"

"Thank God for Carol, huh."

Rick didn't even know what kind of twisted irony had his baby end up in Carol's hands after he expressly stated he didn't trust her, but he was fine with the joke being on him. If it meant his family was safe, God and fate could have at it.

They sat for a moment, just taking in the sound of Judith's gurgling and babbling, so glad to have her back in their lives. It seemed that she had missed them too, as she reached for their faces at every chance she got, smiling as Rick kissed her little fingers or when Carl pretended he was being punched every time she touched his cheek. It felt so good for their family to be complete again.

"Hey, Dad?" Carl looked up from his sister to lock eyes with his father.

"Yeah?"

"How come you didn't have Michonne come with us?"

"Did you want me to?"

"I mean, it just… I guess I'm used to us being together all the time now."

"Well, I guess that's why I wanted us to have this moment alone," Rick offered pensively, staring absently at the ground. "It was the three of us before it was the four of us. And it's okay if it goes back to that every now and then."

"It's the five of us," Carl reminded his dad with a small smile.

"I stand corrected," Rick grinned. Their new baby was about the size of a lemon at the moment, but Carl was right. It was five of them now. That was their family. And they were his responsibility. "I also wanted to say something to you I didn't get a chance to say before we left Terminus."

"I know not to trust Gareth," he assured his dad.

"Not just Gareth and his group. Abraham and Eugene and Tara seem like fine people, and if Glenn trusts them, I'm not gonna make any waves, but listen to me," Rick demanded his son's gaze. "You are not safe, Carl."

Carl looked at him, trying to grasp the gravity of what his father was saying.

"No matter how many people are around, or how clear the area looks – no matter what anyone says, no matter what you think – you are not safe," he told him seriously. "Your sister isn't safe. What we're doing is dangerous, and I don't want you getting careless."

"I haven't been careless since the walker that got Dale," he reminded his father.

"I know you know what you're doing," Rick nodded, "but it only takes a second. One second and it's all over. So you stay alert at all times. Never let your guard down. Never. Promise me."

"I won't, Dad." Carl wasn't scared by much in this world, but his dad's warning had truly rattled him. But he supposed was the purpose. "I promise."

"Good." He stood from the ground, taking Judith so that Carl could stand as well. He squeezed his shoulder as they headed back for the church. "Let's get back before Michonne starts to worry."

* * *

Later that night, after Rick had gotten both groups squared away in separate rooms, and Michonne was watching over his kids, he made it a point to find Carol and thank her for what she'd done. He finally learned that Tyreese was who got Judith out of the prison, but Carol had obviously taken her on as her own, and that meant something. Especially after everything he had said and done to her.

He eventually found her in what he presumed to be the priest's office, where she had been sitting at a desk, reading the Bible. "Sorry to interrupt," he greeted her hesitantly. "I was hopin' we could talk for a minute."

She closed her book with a small sigh and looked at him expectantly.

"So… Father Gabriel seems nice," he started awkwardly.

She rolled her eyes immediately. "He's an asshole. Me and Tyreese had to put a gun to his head for him to let us in here."

Well. He didn't expect her to say that. "So… It's just been you two and Judith this whole time?"

Her eyes darted downward at his question. She didn't want to lie about Lizzie and Mika and their tragic ending, but it had been a good day. She just couldn't delve into that at the moment. "You come in here to make small talk?"

He sighed heavily, seeing she wasn't going to make this easy on him. He leaned against the doorframe, staring at her contritely. "I'll never be able to thank you. To repay you for what you did for me."

"Rick, you've saved my life more times than I can count. I'd like to think we're past 'thank you's at this point."

"Are we past apologies too?" he hoped.

"No," she returned emphatically.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he chuckled lightly. He looked at her for a while, wondering how it came to pass that she, of all people, ended up with his daughter. He wondered where she'd been and how she got to this church. Had she been through even remotely as much as the rest of them had since the fall of the prison? "I'm sorry, Carol."

"You banned me from my home," she declared as if she had just realized the weight of it.

"I know."

"Did I mean nothing to you?" she shook her head in disbelief. "After all we'd been through?"

"I didn't know who you were in that moment, Carol."

"I was doing what I thought was right," she maintained.

"Well so was I."

"You said I wasn't fit to be around your kids, Rick. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? After all the time I spent watching Carl? Taking care of Judith?"

"I said I was sorry," he returned softly. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to explain it to me! How do you do that to someone?"

"What if Glenn had gotten sick first?" he fired back almost angrily. "Would you've killed him too? Put a knife in his head without letting Maggie say goodbye?"

"I don't know, maybe I would have."

"And you still don't see anything wrong with that?"

"I do."

Their argument came to a halt as Rick looked at her, stupefied. He really didn't expect her to say that.

"I know what I did was wrong," she confirmed quietly, looking him in the eye. "I feel it. More than you could ever possibly imagine."

Rick didn't know what she meant by that, but he imagined she didn't say those words lightly. "I guess things aren't as black and white as you thought..."

"Everything is a shade of gray," she nodded sadly. She realized she was on the verge of tears as her mind drifted back to everything that happened at that pecan grove. Those girls… God, she was so tired of losing things. People. "Rick, I don't want us to be enemies."

"Listen, you saved my baby's life. Far as I'm concerned, we're square," he promised. "I can't control how you feel about me, or how the others feel about you, but I have your back."

She nodded at him appreciatively. "Back to being the leader, huh."

"Nothin' left to farm," he joked with a small smile.

She offered him a smile back. "Good."


	9. a pocketful of soul

**9: a pocketful of soul**

_I don't wanna lose you now_  
_I'm looking right at the other half of me_  
 _The vacancy that sat in my heart is a space that now you hold_  
 _Show me how to fight for now_  
 _And I'll tell you baby, it was easy coming back here to you_  
 _Once I figured it out_  
 _You were right here all along_

* * *

Michonne shot up from her slumber in a small panic. Her dreams had taken her to a weird place - Rick's hand had been cut off, and Carl had been shot in the face, while Judith was nowhere to be found. And she was watching it all unfold, but there was nothing she could do to save them. She woke up in a sweat. It took her a moment to figure out where she was - in the church, surrounded by people she knew, some she loved. She wiped her face in relief that Carl was safely beside her, but she immediately noticed that Rick was missing.

"Rick?" she whispered into the darkness.

"He left," Abraham informed her groggily.

She frowned, not knowing what that could mean, but quickly picked herself up to go find out. She made a pit stop at Daryl's sleeping bag, telling him to keep an eye out for Carl, and crept out of the silent room.

She followed the long hallway to the sanctuary, relieved to find Rick sitting in one of the pews with Judith. They appeared to be playing some game, completely oblivious to her presence in the room. "You scared me to death, you know."

He looked over and smiled cluelessly, unsure of how he possibly could've done that. "What'd we do?"

"You were gone," she stated simply, taking a seat beside them. "I don't like waking up and not seeing you there."

He looked over to her, realizing that she was serious. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He planted a quick kiss to the side of her face, near her neck. "This one has no respect for time. She was up and at 'em at five o'clock sharp."

"Oh, don't you try to blame her," she smirked. She gave Judith a tummy tickle, laughing as her little face contorted into a giggle. "She's too cute for that."

"That's true," he grinned. He stood her on his lap, watching in amusement as she tried to walk across he and Michonne's thighs. "You sleep okay otherwise?"

"I guess," she sighed. "It's so hot in there."

True enough, it hadn't been exactly comfortable with eleven of them in one room, but he wasn't willing to put them at risk by letting anyone sleep out in the open. "It's safest," he reminded her softly.

"I know."

"It'll be over soon," he promised. "I'm not letting them leave here with us."

"You have a plan?" she whispered, baffled.

"Yeah, I think so." He glanced over to gauge her reaction, seeing that she seemed pleased by the notion. He figured she had to be just as tired as he was of Gareth being in their midst. "I was gonna take Daryl out to look for some cars and talk to him about it today."

Judith had begun to reach for her hair, so she took the baby into her arms and let her go to town. "You think you could hold off on that trip for a day?"

"An entire day?" he frowned.

"A few hours," she appended.

"What are you up to," he smirked. "And don't say 'nothin'."

"I wasn't gonna say 'nothin'." She smiled a smile brighter than he'd ever seen, gazing into his eyes as if she could see what was on his mind. "I was just thinking..."

"Yeah..." Her smile was contagious, he couldn't help but match her grin.

"Well... we're in a church. Everyone that matters to us is here." She exhaled nervously as she realized what she was about to say. "Do you think Father Gabriel could marry us?"

Rick looked at her in a combination of wonderment, elation, and confusion, his blue eyes dancing across her beautiful features. Was she serious? "You serious?"

"If you want to, I mean."

"Of course I do. Are you kidding?"

She felt herself blushing, thankful her dark skin didn't sell her out. She looked at Judith, still fascinated with her locs, smiling at what was soon to be her step-daughter. "How 'bout you? Will you have me?"

She responded with happy blue eyes, as she always did. They were lucky Judith was such a cheerful baby. It made it so much easier to remember what they did all this for.

"I don't know how I ended up so lucky," Rick quietly declared, staring down at his hands. It had been months since he gave thought to taking off his first wedding ring. He wasn't sure why he hadn't done it sooner. There was always some reason another, but it probably boiled down to the fact that he just wasn't ready to say goodbye. But the moment had come, it was time to finally let Lori rest in peace. That was another life, someone else's slide show. He had moved on, and was thankful for the capacity to do so, given all they'd been through. He slowly slid his silver band from his hand, gazing at his daughter as he did. Maybe one day he would give it to her. Or perhaps he'd split it in half to give to both her and Carl. But for now, he would keep it safe while he embarked on this new journey with his new love. "Let's get married," he grinned.

* * *

"Hey." Michonne approached Carl where he sat on the front steps of the church, keeping an eye out for walkers. She hated to interrupt him while he did his favorite job, but she didn't have long, and she wanted to have a bit of a powwow with him. "Can we talk?"

"Sure," he answered nonchalantly. He moved over a few inches so she could sit.

"How you holdin' up," she wondered, accepting his offhanded offer.

He shrugged in reply. "I think I'm just glad to have everybody back together. Or, almost everybody."

She nodded, having felt that same peace, being reunited with most of the core prison group. "Finding your sister must've been a huge weight off your shoulders."

He smiled a big, genuine kid smile at the thought. "Yeah."

Michonne would've been lying if she said she hadn't noticed the shift in Carl's demeanor since he found out she was pregnant. They had been best friends, but he had noticeably pulled away from her, and she wanted to use that moment to make sure everything was copacetic. "So you're getting a new sister or brother," she stated as if he were unaware. "How do you feel about that?"

He shrugged again. "I'm happy for you guys, I guess."

"Oh well damn, don't get too excited there," she mocked his apparent indifference. "This is happening to you too, y'know."

"I know." His eyes focused in the ground in front of him for a while. He was halfway listening for walkers, halfway debating whether he wanted to just come out and ask Michonne the question that had been bugging him for so long. He eventually decided to go for it. "How do you feel about it? I mean, after what happened with Andre?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, touched by how sympathetic he was. She had no idea that was even on his radar. "I'm happy," she promised softly. "It makes me think of him a little more than I'm used to, but that's a good thing. I'm not hiding from it."

"How can you be happy then?"

"Because I learned that it's okay to move on. I was so consumed in anger and avoiding my grief that I didn't realize I hadn't processed it. I was just... gone," she explained. "But you and your dad? You brought me back. And... I feel like it's okay to live again. To try, anyway."

"Yeah, but how do you do that without being scared? Like so much could go wrong. It could end the way my mom did, and I'm not sure-," he stopped speaking when his voice broke. He hated thinking of what would happen if anything went wrong with this pregnancy.

"Carl, look at me," she requested quietly. He did as she asked, his big inquisitive blue eyes searching her empathetic brown ones for answers. "We can't live our lives worrying about what may or may not happen. Our choices have to reflect our hopes, not our fears. Especially now." He reminded her so much of his dad, she couldn't help but smile at him. "Everything's gonna be okay."

He nodded slowly as he processed her words. "I just wish things were like they used to be, I guess."

"Used to be like when?"

"Like at the prison. When we used to play games and we had our inside jokes and stuff. Everything seemed so simple there."

"Everything was simple there," she agreed with a wistful grin. "But nothing stays the same, kid. Not even you."

He looked at her with a small frown. "I'm the same."

"You're hardly the same person I met so many months ago. The one that kept his hand on his gun whenever I was in the room, and that ice cold stare."

"Well that's because you ended up being cool," he smirked playfully. "I'm still that person."

She gazed at him with a smile in her eyes. "You're so much more than that, you know."

"Pregnancy made you really sappy," he noted in feigned disgust.

"Pregnancy made me realize that just because you're breathing doesn't mean you're alive. You know what I mean?"

"I think so."

"I want us to have full lives, Carl. Me and your dad, you, your sister, this one," she rubbed her flat stomach. "I want us to grow old together. I want you to be pushing me and your dad around in wheelchairs."

"I'm pretty sure I should be doing that now," he taunted playfully.

"Oh, you got jokes," she realized with a light laugh. "Okay then."

The two of them sat there smiling for a few beats, Carl glad that he went ahead and said what was on his mind. He really had missed Michonne, but things just didn't seem the same anymore. She helped him realize that that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"So..." Michonne lightly nudged his knee with her own. "How would you feel if me and your dad got married?"

His eyes brightened at her question, as if he didn't believe she was asking it. "Really?"

"We can keep it hypothetical, if you'd like."

"But you want to."

"Today, if it's okay with you," she admitted. "But only then."

He considered what it meant for Michonne to be his dad's wife. For her to be his step-mother. Realistically, not much would change, most likely. They'd been operating as a family since they'd been on the road. But in his head, he felt like a seismic shift would occur if she officially became a Grimes. Like they wouldn't be able to be friends anymore because she would be his parent. He wasn't sure how to feel about it.

"Tell me what you're thinking," she interrupted his obvious musings.

"I... just don't want our relationship to change, I guess. If you become my step-mom."

"You think that means we can't be buddies anymore?"

He shrugged. "I was definitely never friends with my mom like this."

"Well here's the thing," she was smirking. "Our relationship gets to be whatever we want it to be. That's the beauty of getting older and figuring out who you are and what you want."

"So we can be both."

"Or neither," she shrugged. "Whatever you prefer."

He thought about this for a while before asking, "You really wouldn't marry my dad if I didn't want you to?"

Her stomach dropped at the thought. She didn't know what she'd do if he said 'No.' They were her family, and she didn't know how she would take it if he didn't want her to be a part of it. "I wouldn't," she promised. "I never wanna do anything to disregard you or your feelings."

"Even if it meant you and my dad wouldn't be happy?"

"Parents sacrifice things for their kids all the time. Nothing new."

He knew she was halfway joking about that, but it made him think. His dad really did put everything on the line for him, constantly, and he knew it. From the time he could remember, Rick had been there for him, and a lot of people couldn't say that about their fathers. That was certainly true now. His dad deserved happiness more than anyone he knew.

"Can I come to the wedding?" he looked over to Michonne, letting her know that this was his consent, if she really did need it.

She smiled brightly at his question and answer. "You better be there."

"I can be your best man," he offered softly. He realized then how happy he was about the news.

She noticed the glint of tears in his eyes and poked him lightly. "Now who's the sappy one?"

He wiped them quickly, much in the same way his father tended to do. "You still are."

She grabbed him and planted a big, sloppy kiss to the side of his unwitting face. "I love you so much, kid. Don't ever forget that."

He continued to pretend he hated the affection, wiping his cheek dramatically, but he made his true feelings clear. "I love you too, Michonne."

* * *

_It's like you're my mirror_  
_My mirror staring back at me_  
 _I couldn't get any bigger with anyone else beside me_  
 _And now it's clear as this promise_  
 _That we're making two reflections into one_  
 _It's like you're my mirror, my mirror staring back at me_

It was a beautiful afternoon. Early Georgia summers tended to be that way – warm, serene, without a cloud in the sky. Michonne and Rick stood amid the grass behind the church, in front of Father Gabriel, while Carl and Judith sat a few feet away as witnesses to the moment.

"Marriage is perhaps the greatest and most challenging adventure of human relationships," Father Gabriel began. "No ceremony can create your marriage; only you two can do that – through love and patience, dedication and perseverance, talking and listening, tenderness and laughter, learning to forgive, learning to appreciate your differences, and learning to make the important things matter. You must let go of the rest. What this ceremony can do is witness and affirm the choice you make to stand together as partners in life." He looked to Rick and asked him pointedly, "Do you, Rick, take this woman to be your wedded wife?"

Rick smiled widely at Michonne as he replied, "I do."

"And do you, Michonne, take this man to be your wedded husband?"

A happy tear escaped to her cheek before she could answer. "I do."

"I understand that you have your own vows you'd like to say to one another. Before you do that, I ask you to remember that love, which is rooted in faith, trust, and acceptance, will be the foundation of this relationship. No other ties are more tender, no other vows are more sacred than those you now assume. There's no more civic law, so what you say today is out of pure desire to love and be loved by another person fully. Please, proceed," he directed Michonne.

"Rick… Thank you," she sniffled, taking his hand into hers. Her tears were falling so quickly and freely, she didn't bother trying to stop them. "My life, whatever it was before I met you, had been tragically empty. I was lost," she admitted quietly. "And I don't know why I was so lucky, but I thank God every single day that you found me, that you saved me." She glanced back at Carl, meaning the same for him as well. "There's a C.S. Lewis quote that says, 'Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny.' I'm living proof of that, because here I stand, with my extraordinary destiny," she smiled through her tears. "Thank you."

"Thank  _you_ ," he whispered to her with a tender grin.

"I know I'm imperfect," she went on.

"No, you're not," he interrupted to say.

"I am. So are you," she joked. "But it's why I love you. You reflect me, you complete me, you awaken the parts of me that I tried so hard to keep locked away." She exhaled softly, trying to maintain her composure, but she was crying almost uncontrollably now. "I know you're not going to quote poetry, I know you have a million responsibilities and I can't be on your mind every moment, but I know you're giving me a part of you that I can break, and I don't take that lightly. I promise not to hurt you. I don't want to change you. I promise to smile when you make me happy, yell when you make me mad, and miss you when you're not there."

"I'll always be there," he assured her with a smile.

"Shut up," she chuckled stuffily. "I promise to love hard, because there's no other way to do it. And because even if you're not perfect, you're perfect for me, Rick Grimes. And I'm in this with you, until death. I love you."

"I love you, too, Michonne."

"Even when I'm a blubbering mess?" she sniffled.

"Especially when you're a blubbering mess." He looked to Father Gabriel to make sure it was his turn.

"Go ahead, Rick."

He let out a big sigh, taking in the moment and everything that was happening. It had been such a strange set of circumstances that led him to this place, but he was nothing but grateful for them. All the catastrophe and death that surrounded him brought him to the love of his life. And as she stood there, pregnant and crying, more beautiful than he could even say, he just hoped this feeling would last forever.

"Around the time I first met Hershel," he started, "he said to me, and I'll never forget it, 'The best portion of your life will be the small, nameless moments you spend smiling with someone who matters to you.' And at the time, I couldn't process it, because smiling was such a rarity. I was always running after some disaster or another, trying to keep my kids safe, trying to just keep my head above water," he nodded in recollection. "But then you came along. And suddenly, I understood what he meant. Suddenly, I found myself smiling again. And maybe it took me a little too long to realize I was in love with you, and it took you even longer to get over yourself," he winked teasingly. "But one thing I was clear on – you made me happy, Michonne." It was then he realized he was on the verge of tears himself. "So I promise to spend my life making you happy. To be your best friend." He cupped her face with his hands, wiping her tears that refused to stop coming down. "I promise that, no matter what happens from here, wherever we end up, our lives will be full of small, nameless moments where we do nothing but smile."

"Oh god," she was grinning and crying at the same time as she stared into his eyes. "You kill me sometimes, you know."

"I know."

"Do you two have rings, by any chance?" Father Gabriel wondered.

Rick dug into his pocket, pulling out a diamond band he'd spent much of the morning searching for. He hated stealing another woman's heirloom, even if she was a walker, but she certainly wouldn't need it, and he knew Michonne would cherish it. "I have one."

"I don't," Michonne winced, looking at Rick. "You didn't tell me we were doing rings."

"You didn't tell me we were getting married," he joked. "It's fine."

"But I wanna give you a ring now."

"We can find one later," he promised. "You're kind of interrupting our wedding here."

She only stared at him, half amused, half annoyed, but was willing to continue, when Carl hopped up from his seat.

"I have one," he proclaimed proudly.

"You have a ring?"

"Yep." He went into the pocket of his own jeans and pulled out a simple gold band. "I don't know if it'll fit, but me and Daryl went looking, just in case you guys needed them," he explained simply. He looked at Michonne with a smirk, "I told you I'd be your best man."

She smiled widely at him, taking the band and handing it over at Father Gabriel. "Thank you, Carl."

"Rick, place this ring on Michonne's finger and repeat after me," the Father instructed. "'I give you this ring as a visible and constant symbol of my promise to love you as long as I live.'"

He did as told, taking Michonne's hand into his, softly placing the band on her left third finger. "I give you this ring as a visible and constant symbol of my promise to love you as long as I live."

Michonne did the same, gazing into Rick's happy blue eyes at she did. "Rick, I give you this ring as a visible and constant symbol of my promise to love you as long as I live."

Father Gabriel looked on happily as he watched them complete their action. "By the power of your love and commitment, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss each other."

The joy on their faces was insurmountable. Rick leaned into his new wife, letting his lips fall to her cheeks first, kissing away her tears, and then found her mouth. Her hands gripped his face as they chastely enjoyed one another's lips and pulled apart contentedly. It was official.

"Get over here," Rick called back to Carl with a giant smile. As he approached, he held Michonne closely and whispered into her ear, "Looks like you're mine now."

She smiled back as her family moved in to embrace them. "I always was."

_Now you're the inspiration for this precious song_  
_And I just wanna see your face light up since you put me on_  
 _So now I say goodbye to the old me, it's already gone_  
 _And I can't wait to get you home just to let you know_  
_You are, you are the love of my life_

* * *

_Lyrics: "Mirrors" - Justin Timberlake (The 20/20 Experience)_


	10. secrets

**10: secrets**

Sunlight was streaking through the window of the church attic, stirring Rick from his peaceful slumber. He'd been in the midst of a pleasant dream when his eyes fluttered open, finding Michonne staring back at him. His wife. He sleepily smiled at the realization and at her.

"Were you just watchin' me?" he squinted.

She ran a loving hand over his hairy cheek and smiled back. "Yep."

"Why?" His accent seemed thicker than normal when he first woke up, she noticed. One of many things she hoped to inherently know about him as the years went on.

"I just like lookin' at you," she shrugged. "Especially when you're at peace, like this."

He inwardly shook his head at her antics and sat up to meet her gaze, placing a small kiss on her lips. "Good morning."

She smirked at his statement. It had indeed been a good morning. And a good night. And a good evening. Truth was, they'd spend a large portion of the previous few hours consummating their marriage, and Michonne was in quite the good mood due to it. "Yes. Yes, it is," she finally returned.

He looked around the large, empty space, unsure of why they hadn't thought to utilize the attic sooner. It certainly would've been better than cramming everyone into the offices downstairs.

"How long you been awake?"

She shuffled in their makeshift bed so that she could lie back down. "Probably about an hour."

"And you just sat here, staring at me that whole time?"

"Not the  _whole_  time," she rolled her eyes playfully. "This kid is really doing a number on me in the mornings."

He nodded in realization. "Shouldn't it be going away soon? Once you hit the second trimester?"

"It's definitely not as severe as it was," she confirmed. "Or I'm just learning to keep it down better. But yeah, I'm getting there."

He was glad to hear it. He did not want her to be any more uncomfortable than she already was once they got back on the road. "I guess it'll be time to start telling people soon." That was another conversation he was dreading. After Lori, he didn't know if he could put them through that again. Much as he hated to acknowledge it, the actions of his personal life had a direct effect on them. If his wife was pregnant, it meant he had yet another priority besides them to focus on.

Michonne sighed, seeming to read his thoughts and feel his same hesitance about it. She was sick of feeling sick every damn day, and even more sick of trying to hide it from everyone, but it was for the best until they were either somewhere safe or she couldn't hide it anymore. The last thing she wanted was somebody risking their life trying to save her. Or even threatening her baby just to get to her or Rick. "Maybe we can hold off for a little while longer."

"You think so?" he looked down at her hopefully.

"They may suspect it. But we don't have to confirm anything until we're ready," she rationalized. She loved the prison group and they were certainly her extended family, but the people that needed to know, knew.

He was glad they were on the same page. That's all he ever wanted to be with her. "And how about us being married? That something you wanna keep under wraps, too?"

That, she wanted to shout to the whole world. But she wondered if that would arouse too many questions. Besides Daryl and Maggie, nobody knew what she and Rick had become. She kind of liked it that way. She shared him in so many capacities with this group, maybe she could keep this secret a little while longer, too. "My mom used to always tell me to keep my personal life personal," she replied softly. "Let's give that a try."

He had no complaints about that. After the melodrama he had with Lori and Shane, he couldn't have said it better himself. He really enjoyed the ease of their relationship, and hoped it would stay that way. He slid his new wedding ring off of his finger and handed it over to her. "Keep it safe for me?"

She hated to take her band off. She had never been much of a girly girl, into diamonds and sparkles, but she'd been enjoying the way it looked on her hand. Still, she removed it and glided them both onto the gold chain she wore, the one with the tiny 'M' attached. It would have to do for now. She smiled happily at her husband as she placed the chain back around her neck, letting her shirt cover the rings. "How's that?"

He didn't answer but leaned in to kiss her again, much more fervently this time. His tongue licked at her lips until they pushed their way through and found her own. The two of them were instantly wrapped up in each other again. She held her hands at his bare sides while his kisses moved down her face to her neck.

"You know we're going to hell for screwing in a church like this."

"We were goin' to hell anyway," he mumbled into her collarbone, licking every inch of her exposed skin. "Might as well enjoy it."

"Yeah, you're probably right." With a giggle she removed her shirt, ready to enjoy her man one more time.

* * *

Meanwhile, down on the main level, people were just beginning to awake for the morning. Glenn and Maggie were eating breakfast with Judith, Tara was attempting to make herself some oatmeal, while Daryl and Carol sat outside, sharing a cigarette.

"She ran right past me. Didn't even see me sitting there," Carol was telling Daryl quietly as she took a drag. It was turning out that she was quite the gossip, it seemed. "She came back a few minutes later looking almost guilty. Or maybe sickly is the better word."

Daryl offered a chuckle at her story, but he didn't know why she was so concerned about Michonne one way or another. "Maybe she just went for a jog."

"Shortest jog I've ever seen," she mumbled.

"Well what do you think it is?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you..."

He continued to bite at his thumb nail, unsure of what to tell her. Even if he did know what her mystery run was about, he wouldn't have just betrayed her trust and told Carol. Michonne was too private for that.

"You've been with her longer than I have. You really haven't noticed anything off about her lately?"

He shrugged absently, taking the cigarette that she was passing over to him. "Maybe she's pregnant," he joked with a puff, having no idea how accurate he was.

"Please," she scoffed looking out to the scenery ahead. "Don't even joke about that." She shook her head in concern. "Can you imagine? Having  _another_  baby on the road?"

His head rested against the pillar where he stood as he thought about what that would mean. The previous winter had been rough on them. They'd survived, and he figured they could do it again, but man... "Remember some days Lori couldn't even move."

"We were all running on empty," Carol recalled hopelessly. "And being pregnant is no cake walk anyway. Let's just not even put that into the atmosphere."

Daryl nodded in agreement and turned to look inside the sanctuary, seeing Rick walking towards him. He noted the disheveled look of his hair, contrasted by the expression of absolute calm on his face, and he knew exactly where he'd been the past few hours. He could only shake his head in amusement as he approached.

"What's wrong?" he asked, oblivious to his obvious sex hair.

"Nothin'," Daryl smirked at his friend. "What's up?"

"You feel like goin' for a walk?"

"Depends on who's goin'." He'd about had it with babysitting Gareth while Rick was off doing god knows what.

"Just you and me," Rick promised. "Bring your crossbow."

As if he would do anything but. He frowned in confusion as Rick disappeared just as quickly as he'd arrived. Turning back to Carol with a joking roll of his eyes, he told her, "He's probably the one you should be worried about."

* * *

Just a few hours later, Rick and Daryl were back on the train tracks. They had just finished decimating all the nearest signs that directed people to Terminus, and now they were in search of a car. In reality, though, they were primarily just talking.

"I'm glad you got a plan," Daryl was telling Rick upon hearing what he had in mind for Gareth. Besides supply runs for food, gas, and ammo, they'd all been hanging around the church like they had nothing better to do. He'd begun to worry that Rick's resolve was waning. "I didn't know what the hell you've been doin' these last couple days."

"I've been preoccupied," Rick admitted. "Having Judith back…" His sentence trailed off into the air before he mentioned the fact he and Michonne had gotten married. "But I've been thinkin' about what to do with them and I really don't see any other way. They don't get to live."

"It's quick and dirty," Daryl shrugged casually. "I'm with you, man."

Rick nodded, relieved. If he had Michonne and Daryl's support, he felt the others would align with that. "Hopefully, the others have had enough time to rest up."

"Hell, they're probably restless at this point."

Rick looked back at Daryl, trying to gauge whether that was a judgment. "First thing tomorrow," he reminded him of the plan.

It was Daryl who nodded this time. "Then we're off to Washington to save the world?"

"We're off to Washington to see what happens."

"You don't believe this guy, do you?" Daryl was referring to Eugene and his claim to be a scientist. "I'm more likely to cure this thing than that mullet."

Rick sighed, having had the exact same thought. There was about a 1% chance that Eugene wasn't full of shit, but… it was better than nothing. He couldn't take hope away from his people like that. "The chances of all of us finding each other again were pretty slim, you know. But we did."

"I'm still gonna guess they were higher than Eugene even knowing somebody in DC."

"You're probably right," Rick acknowledged quietly. "And maybe I know that, and you know that, but those people back there? Those people that have had everything taken away from them? If they wanna believe that this is even remotely possible, then we're gonna go to Washington and find out."

Conversation ceased as they approached a minivan on the side of the road, appearing to have been in function somewhat recently, just based on the fact that the windshield was clean. The two of them moved into stealth mode, studying the thing from all sides before opening its doors. No keys, but a couple of gallons of water sat on the passenger floor. There were no signs of death, walker or otherwise.

"Somebody's comin' back for this," Daryl noted.

"Probably went to try and find some gas or food," Rick agreed. "'Course they could've died on their way back."

Daryl eyed Rick carefully, understanding what he was saying, but still surprised he was saying it. He was finding it hard to get a read on the man ever since the night he bit out Joe's throat. He would have to learn to stop underestimating him. "I'll get it started, we'll see what we're workin' with."

Rick went to pop the hood, the two of them having been through this same routine a dozen times. He checked the water and oil levels while he waited for Daryl's instruction.

"It's about time for Carl to be gettin' behind the wheel," Daryl called out from the driver's seat. "You ready for that?"

Rick looked up at him through the windshield, knowing that it was uncharacteristic for Daryl to make small talk. "Did he put you up to this?"

"Say what?"

Carl and Daryl had been spending more time together as he and Michonne took more opportunities to be alone. And Carl could be quite the talker when he wanted to be. It wouldn't have been at all surprising if he talked Daryl into bringing up the subject with his dad. "You can just tell Carl he doesn't have to worry about driving any time soon. There's absolutely nowhere for him to go."

Daryl chuckled to himself. He would have to let the kid know his old man was sharper than he gave him credit for.

"Thank you, by the way," Rick called back after a moment. "For keepin' an eye out for him."

"It's nothin'," Daryl shrugged. He went underneath the steering wheel for a moment, fiddling with a series of wires when Rick came and took the passenger seat. "You got a good kid," he looked over to tell him.

"I know," Rick nodded thoughtfully. "I have it pretty good, considering…"

That was true, Daryl thought. Rick had two kids, a badass girlfriend, a pretty damn capable group of people following him. "You got it better than most."

"If you'd asked me a year ago, I'm not sure I would've said the same."

"I know for sure you wouldn't have," he smirked. "You and Lori, man…"

Rick let his head fall back against the headrest. He still hated to think about it. "Don't even remind me," he chuckled. "Y'know, the other day, Carl asked me if she had sex with Shane."

Daryl laughed out loud – something he rarely, if ever, did. "Can't say the kid is shy."

"No, he most certainly is not." He shook his head at that entire conversation. "Had a million and one questions about me and Michonne, too. It's gettin' to the point where I just wanna lie to him."

"He ain't the only one with questions about you two," he informed his friend with a smirk.

Rick looked over at Daryl, surprised that he even cared. "Seriously?"

"Not me," he clarified with a shake of his head. "Carol was onto you two back at the prison. Then again, so was everybody. But now she thinks Michonne has the vapors or somethin'. I don't know."

"What?" Rick chuckled in confusion.

"I dunno," he repeated. He got the two wires he needed and put them together in an effort to start the car. The engine revved and they looked at each other in surprise. "Got enough to get back to the church," he noted of the gas gauge.

"That's a start," Rick shrugged. One car with an empty tank was better than nothing. They started on their journey back to camp, glad they they still had plenty of daylight left to continue their search. "Now that you know the plan, we can go back and get a couple of the others, maybe Sasha, Glenn, and let them know what's goin' on," he advised.

Daryl nodded in compliance. "You told Michonne already," he guessed.

"Yeah," he let out an exaggerated sigh. "Supposed to tell your wife that kinda stuff first," he added, looking over to catch Daryl's eye.

"Your wife, huh?" His choice of words weren't lost on Daryl. In fact, he hadn't missed it the first time he said it, back at Terminus. "I guess that's why your boy had me searching for weddin' rings yesterday mornin'."

"Yeah…" Rick found himself blushing and he didn't know why. "We got married yesterday."

Daryl squinted at him, unsure whether he was serious. When he called Michonne his wife, he thought he meant it in the same way he'd called himself his brother. "Bullshit," he smirked.

"I'm serious," he chuckled. "While y'all went on the gas run. Father Gabriel officiated."

"Well shit."

"What?"

"After all the pussyfootin' around y'all did back at the prison, I thought you were gonna take forever to lock that down." He gave Rick a genuine smile. "Good for you, man."

Rick laughed, remembering how Daryl caught he and Michonne either pre or post sex on more than one occasion. He was glad to be able to share this news with him. "Thank you."

"Y'all tellin' the rest of the group, or what?"

"Not quite yet," he turned to look out of the passenger window. "Michonne likes to keep her personal business personal."

Daryl nodded, recalling the first conversation he'd had with Michonne about Rick. She was certainly a hard nut to crack, he was actually surprised by how easily Rick seemed to have done it. "Y'all didn't waste no time," he commented with a light chuckle.

"We wasted a lot of time, honestly," Rick simpered. "But she knocked me off my feet, and I just haven't been the same since."

Daryl listened as his friend began to wax poetic about his new wife, and his thoughts drifted to Beth. He certainly didn't have the feelings for her that Rick did for Michonne, but in their short time on the road together, something within him had definitely rose to the surface. It wasn't quite butterflies, but maybe a moth had found its way into his stomach when he was around her. He considered talking to Rick about it, but decided better of it, given the fact that there was nothing he could do about it – she was gone. Still, he wondered if he'd ever experience that again.

"Where'd you go just now?" Rick questioned, seeing that he'd suddenly begun to drive faster than they normally did.

"Huh?"

"You're gonna use up all our gas if you don't slow down," he chuckled. "You all right?"

Daryl quickly shook away his thoughts and focused back on the road. "Yeah."

"That wasn't too much information, was it?"

"Nah, it's good to hear some good news for once."

"Yeah, I guess it is," Rick agreed with a sigh. They stayed silent until they pulled back up to the church, both of them surveying the property with regard to their plan for the next morning.

"I'll find Glenn, you find Sasha?" Daryl suggested before opening his door.

Rick nodded, but stopped him from exiting the car just yet. "Hey, what did you mean when you said Carol thinks somethin's wrong with Michonne?"

"I really don't know, man." He shut the door, knowing this was about to be another conversation. "She got some female sense about her, said somethin' was off."

Rick exhaled again, a bit exasperated now. It was obviously going to be harder to keep their secret than the two of them might've thought. "Michonne's pregnant," he blurted out, wincing as the news hit the air.

Daryl looked at him, waiting for him to go on, but he didn't. "You just full of surprises today, huh?"

"I guess I am." He rubbed his temple with his left hand, unsure of whether he should've let that one out of the bag. "You don't tell anyone about this. Last thing I need is-"

"You know you can trust me, man."

He did know that, which was probably why he was comfortable enough to spill the beans. Daryl was right up there with Carl and Michonne in the hierarchy of who he relied on most. "I know. I just know I've thrown a lot at you today."

He sure as hell had. Between Gareth, Eugene, the wedding, the baby, he wasn't sure where he was gonna put it all. "The price of brotherhood, right? I carry some of the weight so you ain't gotta do it all yourself."

"Lighten the load…" Rick agreed contemplatively.

"How long we got?"

He knew he was referring to the pregnancy again. "We think she's due late November, early December."

He hated the thought of being on the road, yet again, with a pregnant woman to protect. Carol was right, he shouldn't have put that out there. But he pushed his worries back down, they weren't doing him any good now. He found himself chuckling instead. "Goddamn, man. You tryna repopulate the Earth yourself?"

Rick laughed heartily, but at this point, he really did have to be responsible for like 10% of the children born after the apocalypse. "They literally don't make condoms like they used to," he shrugged. "What can I say?"

"Yeah, you and your wife better calm down after this one. It's gonna be hard enough coming up with a nickname as good as Lil' Asskicker."

"Don't worry yourself too much about it," Rick rolled his eyes playfully as the two of them finally retreated from the car.

"Hey," Daryl called out to his best friend before they could part ways. It was extremely rare for them to be this candid with one another, but he had enjoyed it. It was a nice change of pace, having a brother that wasn't on every drug under the sun. "I'm happy for you," he told him genuinely. He was also scared shitless for them, but he wasn't gonna tell him that.


	11. bye georgia

**11: bye georgia**

It was dark. Very dark, as 4:00 AM tended to be. Michonne and Daryl skulked about the perimeter of the church, quietly dispatching walkers as needed, while guarding all exits. Tara, Maggie, and Rosita were in charge of one vehicle each – a Honda Odyssey, a Chevy Suburban, and a Nissan Altima, respectively. Father Gabriel, who made the decision to embark on this trip to Washington, as he had nothing left to live for in Georgia, sat waiting in the minivan with Tara. Eugene stayed with Rosita while Maggie had been with Judith, as well as Carl, before he awoke for the morning. They kept the cars a good bit away from the church and had spent the night guarding them.

Abraham, Tyreese and Rick gathered all their supplies and quietly took the trips back and forth to where the cars were stationed, making sure each car had ample food, gas, water, flashlights, ammunition, just in case their convoy got separated.

And inside, Carol, Sasha, and Glenn handled the most important task, which was coating the church in kerosene. Glenn took care of the hard parts – the ceilings and doorframes, while the ladies focused on the walls. They had to work quickly, before the smell tipped off the Termites.

"They're ready," Carl whispered outside to Michonne. He had been standing watch, awaiting the signal from Glenn.

She nodded, seeing that Rick was right on schedule, headed back towards them. She gestured for him to hurry, and he quickly jogged his way to the front steps of the church. "This is it," she told him as he arrived. "You sure about this?"

He nodded but didn't utter any words, his eyes focused on the hallway ahead of him.

"Be careful," she reminded him softly, grabbing his hand before he could go.

He hurriedly kissed her palm and smiled back at her. "Go on to the car."

She immediately followed orders, taking Carl with her, with Carol not far behind. Sasha, Daryl, and Glenn remained with Rick.

"You lock the door yet?" Rick looked over to Glenn. He was referring to the attic door, where he suggested Gareth and his crew sleep for the night to get some space. He added that they would take the larger area the following night, so as not to arouse too much suspicion. They'd fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

"All done," he confirmed, throwing Rick the key to the padlock he placed on the door handle.

Rick sighed, handing each of them a lighter. He almost hated that this was what it had come to – he felt like Gareth actually trusted him on some small level. And maybe in another time or place, they could have come to some sort of truce, but these people had threatened his son, his wife; he killed Bob. The damage was already done. "Y'all ready?" They all nodded and he looked Daryl in the eye before he gave them one last instruction. "You light your corners and get the hell outta here," he reminded them.

With that, they were off.

Rick had the furthest end of the hallway to worry about, as well as the ceiling, but he moved swiftly and quietly to get it done. He started at the floor, just as he'd directed the others, and then used the end of a broomstick to set the ceiling on fire. The whole thing was ablaze within a matter of seconds. He met the other three outside, all of them nearly awed by the orange light already overtaking the place.

"Jesus," Glenn said, realizing that he had just aided in burning nine people alive.

Rick's thoughts echoed that same sentiment, but he knocked them away with a sigh, shutting the front doors to the church. Another chain and padlock went around its handles and he directed them to get a move on. "Y'all go on. I'll wait here." Someone had to hang around and make sure no one got out alive.

The three of them looked amongst each other hesitantly, but Sasha and Glenn did as instructed. Daryl stayed.

"I got this," Rick assured him, watching the blaze roar in the church windows as they stepped away from the building.

"I told you, you ain't gotta do all the heavy lifting."

Rick nodded in appreciation and the two brothers in arms stood there in silence, waiting. Waiting for their enemies to die. Waiting until they were  _sure_  they were dead. It wasn't long before they could hear the screams of those inside. The actual sound was faint, but to the two of them, it was deafening, knowing what was happening. It was almost sick.

After a while, they could hear someone banging on the door. Rick readied his gun and Daryl had his crossbow aimed, just in case they were able to break free, but the banging soon dissipated into silence. Nothing but crackling flames, the entire church embroiled in them.

Daryl watched Rick, seeing he was totally engrossed in the chaos before them. He could almost see the fire in his eyes. "Come on, man," he encouraged him to let it go now. "Ain't nobody surviving that."

Rick wasn't ready to leave yet. He almost couldn't believe it had been so easy. Just like that, the threat was gone? Just like that, it was time to leave Georgia? It had been his home, all he knew, for so long. He felt like he was watching his old life go up in flames with that church. He just wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. He slowly let his eyes rest on Daryl. "You sure about that?"

Daryl nodded insistently. "Yeah, man. You squash a bug like this, it ain't comin' back to life."

He was loath to agree, but common sense told him that Daryl was right. The two of them left the scene of their crimes, headed to catch up with the rest of their group. Rick made sure not to look back.

* * *

The day trudged on, their small caravan of cars moving slowly through the states below the Mason-Dixon Line. Between the silence and the lack of walkers, they were having a fairly uneventful trip towards Washington, DC, and it was much appreciated. The only real problem they'd encountered was a road blockage near Greensboro, so they had to detour through Raleigh instead. Nothing worth complaining about.

"Are we stopping for the night?" Sasha wondered from the backseat of the Altima. The sun had officially gone down, and Rick, who was driving the Suburban at the head of the group, didn't appear to be looking for places to set up camp.

"I dunno," Daryl answered from the driver's seat. "I'm followin' Rick."

"How far are we from DC?" Carol wondered.

"Least another three hundred miles," he figured, knowing North Carolina was pretty much the halfway point.

"We've been driving nearly fourteen hours," she returned incredulously.

"Trust me, that's good time," Tyreese supplied from behind her. "I thought it would take us about a week to get there."

"Me too," Daryl nodded. "We should be there tomorrow, the next day for sure, at this rate."

"Might be by morning if Rick doesn't stop," Sasha smirked.

Meanwhile, in the SUV, Rick was very clear that he wanted to find someplace to hole up for the night. He was getting tired, and they'd been on the road all day, save for a couple of bathroom and gas refill breaks. He exited the interstate in an area that looked typically suburban – fast food restaurants and gas stations, and likely some kind of mall nearby. It was all abandoned, of course, but he figured a safe neighborhood wouldn't be too far away.

He looked over to his son, who'd been sitting in the passenger seat for much of their trip, observing every single thing. He hadn't taken a nap, and only ate some stale potato chips as they drove. He seemed intent on being just as focused as his father.

"You okay?" Rick asked him softly, not wanting to wake the others.

"I'm fine," Carl looked over at his dad obliviously. "You?"

"Gettin' tired," he admitted. "But I'm all right."

"You know, that wouldn't be a problem if you let me drive," he offered hopefully, waiting to gauge his father's response.

Rick chuckled lightly to himself, amused that he was still on that. "I got a whole car full of people I'd let drive before you, kid. Including Judith."

Carl laughed. "That's cold, Dad."

"That's life."

He glanced out of the side view mirror, making sure Daryl and Abraham were still behind them. "Where are we going?" he wondered when Rick made a random right turn.

"Just gonna see what's down here. We need a house or two, maybe some kind of store."

"How about that?" Carl pointed to their right, where a large, empty parking lot sat, surrounding some sort of office building.

Rick definitely liked that the lot was abandoned. Hopefully, that meantthere were minimal walkers inside. "Nice catch," he noted, turning into the place.

He pulled into the handicapped spots directly in front of the building, watching as Daryl and Abraham did the same. In his rear view mirror, he could see Michonne was still fast asleep, with Judith propped over her shoulder, similarly knocked out. He hated to wake them, so he decided to wait until they cleared the building.

"Get your gun out and keep your eyes peeled," he told Carl quietly. "You holler if you hear anything."

Carl nodded, removing his hat so he could see better, and watched his dad silently exit the car. "Be careful," he told him.

Rick already had his pistol drawn as he approached Daryl and everyone in his car. "They're all asleep," he informed them when they saw no one else had retreated. "I thought we could see what's inside, and if there's too many, we'll find somethin' else."

"Office this big, it's surprising there are no cars out here," Tyreese noted.

"I thought the same," Rick nodded. "Let's hope that's a good sign."

Abraham and Tara joined the five of them and they immediately got into formation as they headed into the building. From the looks of things, it had probably been a pretty secure place back when electricity existed – there were several doors that had to be passed through before they came to the lobby. It was a beautiful space, really, with clean marble floors, some sort of security desk, and elevators situated across from them. The area was dusty, but there didn't seem to be a walker in sight.

"They must've shut down early on," Sasha realized with relief to her tone.

"We should check the other floors, but I think this place is empty," Daryl agreed.

They did exactly that, clearing all five floors of the building within an hour. There were only two walkers in the whole place, much to their surprise. They called in the others, who brought in their sleeping bags and any necessary supplies for the night, spreading out throughout the lobby.

"Nice find," Michonne smiled at her husband as he prepared their beds. They set up shop closest to the front door so that he could keep an eye out for their vehicles.

"Carl spotted this place, actually," he told her, taking Judith from her so that she could have a seat.

Impressed, she offered him a high five. "Good lookin' out, amigo."

He smirked proudly, happy that he had something to offer the group. He very much wanted to carry his own weight, and it seemed that being on the road was allowing him to do so. "Glad to be of service," he grinned.

"You most definitely were," Rick assured him, carefully lowering to the floor without waking his daughter. He rested against the security desk, letting his head fall back tiredly. "Today was a good day," he noted.

"Halfway to DC in one day?" Michonne acknowledged. "Definitely a good day."

He began to reply, but a giant yawn came out instead.

"Go to sleep," she told him, offering to take Judith back. She had been asleep most of the day while he did all the driving. "I can take watch."

"I'm all right," he shook his head. He really liked holding his daughter in these quiet moments. He didn't get much opportunity otherwise.

"Rick," she deadpanned. She crawled across the small distance between them, gently taking Judith and pushing him towards the sleeping back. "Go to sleep."

"You better listen to her, Dad. She used to threaten me with push-ups if I didn't go to bed back at the prison."

"You go to sleep too," she told Carl. "You haven't slept a wink today either."

As the new head of the Grimes family, they could only do as told. They got comfortable in their sleeping bags and were in a deep slumber within minutes. Michonne smiled in satisfaction, seeing her boys finally get the rest they so desperately needed.

It had been a long day. They were up at 3:00am, readying the plan for Gareth, and Rick certainly hadn't been getting a ton of rest before that. It wasn't lost on any of them, the weight of what they'd done and what it meant to kill all those people. She knew it had been heavy on Rick's mind, even if he had come to terms with it. Her husband was complicated and she loved that about him. He didn't do anything lightly – not love, not hate, and their decision would stay with him for a bit. So if that meant she had to force him to sleep, so be it. It was her job to protect him too.

* * *

The night hours rolled on and Rick found himself awoken by the sound of a walker at the front door. It was just one, thankfully, and he moved quickly to get outside and slay it before it brought any of its friends along. When he returned, he noticed Michonne sleeping uncomfortably against the security desk and discreetly woke her up.

"What's wrong," she frowned, seeing him kneeled in front of her.

"Come on," he whispered. He took Judith into his arms once again, carefully placing her in their layers of sleeping bags, safely beside her brother. He headed outside to the cars, waiting for Michonne to follow, and opened the back door of their SUV. He signaled for her to get in first, and hopped in after her.

"What are we doing?" she grinned in confusion.

It was just the two of them, in their private, warm little space, while everyone else slept in blissful ignorance. "It's just like we're back in the tombs," he proclaimed proudly.

She looked at him as if he were crazy. But she loved it. "I'm not fucking you in this car, Rick."

"You're so crass," he laughed out loud. "I just wanted to talk. Like we used to."

She smiled at him, in disbelief of how in love she was with this man. How he managed to be simultaneously goofy, sexy, caring, and rugged, she would never understand.

"Come here." He leaned against the car door, propping his right foot upon the seat, leaving a wide space for her to occupy between his legs. She gladly took it, resting happily in his embrace.

"What's got you feeling all romantic this evening?"

"I just like bein' close to you," he offered earnestly. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands resting over her barely there belly, knowing that their growing child was somewhere underneath. "Both of you."

She simply could not contain her smile. "We like being close to you, too."

"How are you feeling?"

She shook her head as she nestled into the crook of his neck. "Not bad today, actually. I think maybe the driving soothed her."

His eyes flashed down towards Michonne, wondering how she could possibly know what they were having. "Her?"

"Just a hunch." She rested her hand over his. "'But I also thought Andre would be a girl, so maybe don't listen to me."

He smiled at the fact that she said his name freely now. All that time at the prison, he wondered why she seemed scared of Judith and now he knew. Now, it was something they just talked about. "What was he like?"

"Andre?" she asked. "Oh god, he was the sweetest kid. He could be quiet when he wanted to, but for a toddler, he was very outgoing," she remembered dotingly. "He wasn't scared of strangers like most kids. He was just... happy."

Rick chuckled quietly. Carl was similar, always in conversation with someone, even from a very young age. Not much had changed, it seemed, though he was much more discerning about who he shared information with now. "I wonder what this one'll be like," Rick pondered out loud. "Strong and quiet, I think."

"Like you," she agreed.

He looked down at his wife with a smirk. "I meant like you."

No one could say they weren't similar. "Have you thought about names?" she looked up at him.

"I'm not good at that stuff," he sighed. "I let Carl name Judith."

"He told me," she remembered from a few weeks before. It was at the same time she told him about Andre. "Maybe he can name this one too."

"You haven't thought of any?"

"Nothing special enough," she shrugged. "I want something different. But not just weird for the sake of being weird, y'know?"

"Something like Michonne," he guessed.

"Sure," she chuckled lightly. "Only thing I came up with was Georgia, if it is a girl."

He looked out of the window ahead of them, unsure how he felt about that one. A lot of good things had happened to him there, but so had a lot of bad ones – especially in recent memory. "I think I'm gonna have to veto that one."

"Why?" she chuckled.

"I don't know if I wanna be reminded of that place every single day."

"But it's where we met. It's where we fell in love." She patted his face softly as she reminded him of all the good things. "It's where she was conceived."

"Yes," he allowed with a small sigh. "But it's also where we were when the world ended."

"Our worlds didn't end, Rick."

"Fair enough." He kissed the side of her temple and held her a little tighter. "If it's a boy, we're not naming him Prison or anything."

She laughed. "That's a deal."

"By the way," he realized suddenly, "I forgot, I have a surprise for you."

She was almost suspicious of what that could mean. "What kinda surprise?"

"It's in the console."

She leaned forward to check the space between the two front seats, wondering what it could possibly be. After a few seconds of fumbling, she pulled a Snickers bar into view. A big grin spread across her features. "For me?"

"I found it yesterday and I knew I had to save it for you."

She'd torn open the thing and bitten into it before he finished his sentence. It had been so long since she'd had one, she simply couldn't wait. It was stale, of course, but it was like heaven to her. "This right here?" Her mouth was full as she spoke. "This is like sex."

"I do something nice for you and the first thing you do is insult me?"

"Everything's not about you, baby," she supplied casually as she devoured the chocolate in nearly one bite.

"No, it's not," he agreed. "But you equate sex to a stale candy bar and I'm gonna take that personally."

"You wouldn't if you knew how much I loved stale candy bars."

He shook his head with a chuckle. He couldn't even chalk this up to a weird pregnancy craving – she always did love old candy, from the moment they met. "This poor kid is gonna be so weird."

She playfully elbowed him in the stomach. "You're not so normal yourself, cowboy."

"Are any of us, at this point?"

"No, I guess not," she conceded with a long yawn. She could fall asleep forever in his arms.

"You know what's funny?"

"What's that," she asked sleepily.

"We've spent a lot of time talking to each other. I feel like I know you inside out sometimes, but... I have no idea when your birthday is."

She chuckled quietly. "I guess that is something a husband and wife should know about each other."

"It probably doesn't matter anymore, but it's odd, isn't it? The kind of nonsense this world has taken away from us? Birthdays and anniversaries are nonexistent now."

"Only the important stuff is important."

He nodded, yawning himself now, his fingers intertwining with hers as they still rested on her tummy. "Just you and the kids…"

"You and the kids," she repeated. It was a simple statement, but it said so much. "You're such a good man," she sighed.

He replied with a small, wistful smile. "I don't know if that's true, but… I wanna be."

"You are," she promised him. "I told you this before, but the way you are with Carl astonishes me sometimes. And I had a good dad," she made sure to clarify, "I had a great dad, actually. But I'm not sure we would've made it as far as you two have, given these circumstances."

He appreciated her words more than he could say. "All I ever wanted, even before all this started, was to be someone Carl could be proud of. And I dunno… I feel like I've stumbled a lot along the way."

"You have. We all have. But you continually rise to the occasion, and it's a stunning thing to see." She squeezed his hand, willing herself not to cry. Her pregnancy hormones had begun to ruin every moment with tears. "It's not just in the way you protect them, but I've seen how you make the effort to be present in his life, to have conversations with him that actually mean something. And even ones that don't," she grinned. "Believe me, in thirty years, he'll be telling stories about you."

"All good ones, I hope," he let out a small chuckle.

"Maybe you haven't noticed, but he wants to be just like you, Rick. That's the biggest compliment you can ask for from a teenager."

She was right about that. Through all their ups and downs, Carl never wanted to disappoint his father; he only ever wanted him to be proud of him. Not to mention, he still refused to let go of that damn sheriff hat. "He's made it his sole purpose to protect this group," he realized, laughing.

"Sound familiar?"

"When you're right, you're right."

"When am I not right?"

"I could make you a list," he joked, his chest moving as he let out a silent laugh.

She closed her eyes as she smiled sleepily at him. She liked that he saved his lighter side for her. The rest of the group probably didn't know what a laugh from Rick Grimes even sounded like, but she sure did.

"By the way, since you didn't bother to ask, my birthday is September fourteenth," he declared once their amusement dissipated.

She snorted at his pretending to be offended, but took note of the date. "Interesting."

"Is it?"

"That was my sister's birthday," she revealed as she turned her head towards his chest. "I remember reading something that said September fourteenth people tended to be 'faithful and dutiful,' 'intellectually aggressive,' and 'enjoyed food, sex, and sleep enormously.'"

"Did you just make that up," he chuckled. He didn't believe in stars and signs and all that nonsense, but he couldn't deny that that sounded like himself.

"I swear I didn't," she giggled. "There was a lot more to it, but that's the part I gravitated toward, because it described Noemie to a tee."

"That's funny."

"I'm February fourteenth, by the way."

"Is that so?" In hindsight, that almost seemed obvious, knowing what he knew about her. The way she loved, it wouldn't have made sense for her to be born any other day.

She nodded.

"So wait. When we had that Valentine's dinner at the prison, you didn't think to say anything?"

"I didn't want anyone to make a fuss," she shrugged. "But don't worry, you gave me a lovely gift."

"Did I?"

She nodded against his chest again, loving the way his accent sounded so close to her ears. "And you got to eat some cake, so... yeah. We celebrated." She looked up at him, wondering if he would get the reference.

He could only shake his head and smile. "Michonne..."

"I'm crazy, I know."

"Precisely why I love you."

Her hand instinctively went to touch her necklace, making sure their rings were still in place. She did that every so often, always concerned for some reason that she would lose them. But then suddenly... "Whoa, did you feel that?"

They both sat up at the sensation they'd just felt in Michonne's stomach. It was a small flutter, but there was definite movement there.

"I did," Rick smiled widely, experiencing a swell of pride that he was able to catch it. "Was that the first time?"

"It was." She looked down at her stomach happily, tears forming in her eyes already. She was so glad Rick had been there for it. "I'm thinking maybe she doesn't like stale Snickers as much as I do?"

"Baby... nobody does," he assured her with raised eyebrows.

"Don't. ruin this moment."

"Jesus," he went back to marveling at the fact that their baby was moving already. "That was amazing." He'd missed this with Carl and Judith, having to run after some emergency or another in both instances. Lori always described it later, and he would get to feel the subsequent kicks, but this first time was... magical.

"Andre waited at least four or five months before he was kicking," she recalled warmly. This pregnancy was bringing back so many memories of him, and much to her surprise, she truly didn't mind. She even welcomed them. "But Georgia is clearly a daddy's girl already."

He was too happy to continue protesting that name at the moment. He just rested his chin over his wife's shoulder, their faces side by side, waiting for their baby to move again.

He wasn't sure what would happen when they got to Washington, but so far, everything was going according to plan. And usually, that would worry him, but maybe, he thought, it was time to stop worrying. In fact, maybe these were signs of good things to come. Killing Gareth, getting to North Carolina, even clearing their camp for the night had all come fairly easy. Maybe this new life, in a new state, was exactly the thing they needed.


	12. alexandria safe zone

**12: alexandria safe zone**

The group had officially made it to the Washington, DC area, better known as the DMV back before the turn – DC, Maryland, Virginia. It was very different from what they knew in Georgia, where they were mostly shrouded in nature. This was more like Atlanta, where the streets were filled with walkers and the roads were filled with abandoned cars. There was no way their convoy would be able to get around past this point, so they had to stop.

Rick hopped out of his car to confer with Daryl and Abraham. "We're not gettin' any closer than this," he announced, walking towards them both. "Where exactly are we supposed to be takin' Eugene?"

"He says the last he heard, they were all convened at the Capitol," Abraham answered.

"That's still a few miles away," Rick knew, having been the only one of them that had ever traveled to Washington before. "I think we're gonna have to wait on that until tomorrow. Use the rest of today's daylight to find somewhere to set up camp."

"We pack up all our shit and walk?" Daryl nodded. "Alright."

"I'm really concerned about the amount of walkers that we'll find as we get closer to the city," Rick was already looking around suspiciously. "Think it might be our best bet to head back the way we came. Virginia's a little more rural, so probably safer."

"Sounds like a waste of gas, but all right," Abraham supplied a bit tensely.

"Is there a problem?" Rick squinted at him.

"No, there's no problem. I just-."

"Dad!" His sentence was cut off by Carl yelling out of his car window. "Walkers!"

Rick turned back towards the pileup of cars ahead of them, seeing a small herd ambling their way. It was nothing they couldn't handle, but he needed everyone in position quickly. He banged on the back of their SUV and immediately, Glenn, Maggie, and Michonne piled out of the car. Sasha, Tyreese, Carol, Rosita and Tara followed suit, all of their knives drawn, ready to approach the pack. But before they could even get close enough, a round of shots were being fired and the walkers were going down, one by one.

"Get down!" Rick shouted upon hearing the gunfire. He instinctively went to cover Michonne, the two of them dropping out of sight behind a car, while the others did similarly.

She kept her eyes on their own vehicle, where she could see that Carl was no longer visible. There were no shots near the windshield, so she knew he must have crouched to the floor with Judith. "What the hell," she whispered to Rick, confused as to who could be shooting at them.

Rick was scanning the area for where snipers could be hiding, but found himself at a loss. His first thought was that Gareth had somehow found them to exact his revenge, but that was crazy. They were dead. He had to accept that. "I dunno," he mumbled in frustration, his eyes still searching the foreground. The gunshots came to a cease, and he waited about a minute to make sure more weren't coming. "Everybody all right?" he called out.

"We're fine," Carol answered.

"Yep," Abraham replied.

"We're good," Maggie hissed from the car across from Rick. "We need to get back to our cars."

He knew as much, but he had no idea who they were dealing with, so he was reluctant to make a move. With a long exhale, he checked the bullets in his Python and then looked over to Michonne. "No matter what happens, you stay down."

She couldn't promise that, but she also didn't want to argue with him, so she simply nodded.

"Do not shoot!" he yelled into the air, standing from his crouched position. He slowly moved between the cars, in the direction of where the walkers had just been shot down. "We come in peace," he promised. "But we are armed and we will fight back!"

"We just saved you," a man's voice replied calmly. "We're not here to hurt you."

He turned to the voice, which seemed to be coming from across the highway. "You have guns and we can't see you. Not a good combination."

"Fair enough." A car door slammed and out stepped two men, likely in their mid to late thirties, both slender and quite ordinary looking, aside from the machine guns they were toting. "Now you see us."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Aaron," the blond one called back. "This is Eric."

"When I ask who you are, I don't wanna know your name," Rick answered tersely. " _Who_  are you?"

"You mind if we come across the median?" the dark-haired one, Eric, asked.

"If you put your guns down."

The two of them looked at each other, but didn't decline. "If you put yours down."

"I got eleven other people over here, ready to shoot, so it's not gonna make much of a difference if I put mine down."

"We know," Aaron nodded. "I assure you, we just want to talk."

"You can talk from over there."

They could see that this guy was not going to make this easy, even if they were trying to help him, so they stayed put. "We've been watching you since Richmond," Eric declared. "And before you freak out, we should mention that we're recruiters. This is what we do."

Daryl hopped up from his spot and joined Rick with his crossbow aimed across the highway. "Recruiters for what?" he growled.

The two of them immediately put their hands up in surrender upon seeing Daryl. "We have a community," Aaron spoke quickly. "It's safe. It has walls, it has houses, we have room enough for all of you."

"We've heard this before," Rick rolled his eyes. "We'll pass." He turned to gather his group and get back on the road, but they implored him to stop.

"Maybe you have," Aaron went on. "From what we've seen, you guys are hardened survivors, and I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through. But this… this is real," he promised. "And as much as we see that you probably need us, the fact is, we need you too."

* * *

"What do you think?"

Michonne glanced over to Rick's question, unsure of what to say. They had already agreed to check this place out, and she supposed they were savvy enough to find a way out if it did come to blows again, but part of her really hoped that these guys were telling the truth. She was sick of fighting. "I think I'm tired," she smiled at him pensively.

"But should we even go?" They were currently following Eric and Aaron's van to this mystery safe place, but he could detour at any second, if she said the word.

"What's your gut telling you?"

"I think my gut might be broken," he smirked. "I really don't know."

"I certainly didn't get the same vibe from them that I got from The Governor," she offered.

"Yeah…"

"And Gareth was so glib, it was hard to get a read on him one way or another."

"These guys seemed… I don't know," Rick sighed. He wanted to say trustworthy, but that was a very difficult word for him to use at this point. He looked back to Glenn in his rear view mirror. "What do you think?"

Glenn sat forward, scratching his forehead, just as perplexed as the two of them. "I think the thing they have going for them is that they don't let just anybody in. They watch people, they're discriminating about who they even speak to. Just like we were."

Rick nodded. He had noticed the same, which was perhaps why he was more apt to believe these guys. He didn't like the thought of being watched, but if he were recruiting people to join his group, he would have done the same. "How 'bout you, Maggie?"

Her green eyes darted up at him, hesitant to come to any decisive thought. But Aaron mentioned that they had doctors at this place, which she knew Michonne would need sooner than later, and that had to have caught Rick's attention. "I think it can't hurt to check," she offered diplomatically. "We've been in more dire positions than this and gotten out okay."

"That's true." He mimicked the van in front of him, making a left, and checked his mirror again to make sure the other two cars were still behind him. "Must be gettin' close, they said it was mostly a straight shot."

"I'm nervous," Michonne noted quietly.

"Y'all stay alert," Rick reminded them. "For all we know, they could start shooting the second we pull in."

"Way to be optimistic," Glenn noted sarcastically.

"I just don't want any surprises," he countered. He looked to the very back seat, where Father Gabriel was sitting quietly, and Carl and Judith were crouched low, so they couldn't be seen. "You okay, Carl?"

"We're good," he called back.

Soon, they pulled up to a set of ostentatious gates – the kind they would find in some ritzy neighborhood back home. The place was indeed surrounded by walls – high, thick ones, not like the ones at Woodbury that were made up of tires and spare metal. These were made of concrete.

"They've got construction workers," Maggie observed as they passed by. "Wow."

So far, things were just as Aaron and Eric said. It was very much a neighborhood, with houses dotting the streets, kids on bicycles passing by, and even an older woman walking a small dog. It felt like they had entered some kind of alternate universe.

Michonne was frowning. "What do you think?"

"I think I don't know what to think," Rick answered honestly. "This could easily go either way."

They pulled up to some sort of welcome center situated in the middle of the area. It was a house, much like the rest of them, but it was surrounded by its own fence, a car was sitting outside, unlike the rest of the homes, and the door seemed to be open.

"Kids is a good sign, right?" Glenn asked.

"Woodbury had kids," Michonne reminded him. "But generally speaking, probably so."

"We probably won't get shot when we open the door," Maggie agreed.

"Y'all stay here," Rick directed them. "I'm gonna see what this whole 'audition' is about."

"So… what do you think?" Aaron asked as Rick approached the two of them. He noted Daryl wasn't far behind and figured the two of them were probably very close.

Rick continued to survey the property, still in disbelief that a place like this existed. It put Woodbury and their town homes to shame. "I think it all looks too good to be true."

"Well, it's not," he assured them. "The other end of the place isn't secure yet, so there've been breaches. Which is why people like you will come in major handy."

Rick nodded, almost glad to hear that. He wasn't sure he could ever feel comfortable somewhere that seemed perfect.

"Also, all the houses don't get hot water yet. And sometimes, the lights don't work as well as we'd like."

"Y'all got electricity here?" Daryl questioned. "You got generators or somethin'?"

"The government set up solar power grids throughout the city in case something like this ever happened," Eric explained, opening the fence to the welcome center. "We conserve all our energy throughout the day, but there are certain hours where electricity is allowed, yes."

Rick and Daryl looked at each other. They both knew what the other was thinking – they really, really hoped this wasn't too good to be true.

* * *

Daryl and Rick had been inside the welcome center for almost an hour, conversing with the leader of the place, an older gentleman named Douglas Monroe. Before the world ended, he'd been a congressman in Ohio, and it was natural for the people there to gravitate toward him when they needed answers. He was a smart man, if not a little aged to be in such an important position, and he seemed sincere. Rick liked him immediately.

The three of them had discussed housing, and the work that they would be required to do in order to maintain their positions there. They explained where they'd been for the past two years, and Douglas expressed his genuine amazement at what they'd survived. He understood exactly why Aaron was so keen to bring them back.

"I won't lie to you," Douglas proclaimed. "You and your people are a valuable commodity in this day and age. I don't have anybody nearly as equipped for this as probably your weakest fighter."

"Two years of constant battle will do that," Rick simpered. "But I promise you, we're not dangerous unless provoked."

"And I can't promise you won't be provoked. This is a community of regular folks, sometimes tempers flare, people get jealous, all that stuff you probably haven't experienced for a while. But I need to know you and your people can play on a team. It can't be you and then us."

"I'll be honest," Rick sighed. "That's gonna take some tme."

"It's been us against the world for a long time," Daryl added quietly. "Ain't gonna go away overnight."

"Can I ask you to try?" The two of them nodded. "Then we shouldn't have any problems, gentlemen."

"I think this might just turn out all right," Rick agreed. "I haven't had this good a feeling in a long time."

"Not since we found the prison," Daryl appended.

As if on cue, there was a sudden commotion outside, with doors slamming and things banging. And then the sound of Michonne's voice over all of it.

" _For all I know, they're dead in there!_ "

" _Ma'am, we assure you everything is fine."_

" _Then let me by_." Her demand was followed by a loud knock. Before anyone could get up to answer it, it swung open, and she stood at the entrance, relieved to see Rick and Daryl staring back at her. "You're okay."

"We're fine," Rick chuckled standing from his chair. "Everything's fine."

She let out a big sigh as she crossed the small space between them. "You know you can't stay gone that long and neither one of y'all give us a sign."

"You're right," he grabbed her hand and gave it a quick kiss. "Douglas, I'd like you to meet my wife, Michonne. Michonne, this is the leader here, Mr. Douglas Monroe."

He stood from his seat to offer Michonne a handshake. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Grimes. I've heard a lot about you." He chuckled, seeing for himself that it was obviously all true.

She couldn't help but smile at the fact that he addressed her as 'Mrs. Grimes.' That was the first time anyone had ever done that, and she wanted to hear it again. "I'm sorry to interrupt," she finally returned. "I just had to be sure you weren't in here slicing my family to pieces."

"Oh no, we don't do that in here," he joked with her. "Much too messy."

She smiled again, noting an interesting charm about this guy. She liked him. "Well. Now that I know you're okay, I'll let you get back to it."

"We were just finishing up, actually," he stopped her. "I'd like to interview you next, if that's all right."

"Me?"

"I'd like to speak with you all at some point today. Although," he checked his watch, "I think I may have to continue doubling up if we're gonna get you in some houses before nightfall."

She nodded, looking over to Rick, who seemed to be pretty enthralled by all of this. It was such a beautiful thing to see him with so much hope. "You wanna go get Carl?" she directed to him.

"Is that your son?" Douglas asked Rick.

"It is."

"That's all right, I don't need to interview the children."

"Trust me, sir. Carl isn't a child."

Douglas laughed, already quite intrigued by this Grimes family. When Rick said he was married with two kids, the last thing he pictured as his wife was a black woman toting a samurai sword. His brother, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be a certified redneck, and from what he'd been told, his son was an expert with a gun. He didn't know who these people were, but he was very much looking forward to getting to know them.

"Gentlemen, thank you for your time," he offered his hand to both Rick and Daryl once more. "Welcome to the Alexandria Safe Zone."

* * *

After interviews were completed, it was close to 8:00PM. They were speedily assigned fully furnished homes and escorted to their new block, towards the back of the neighborhood. Rick had the biggest family, so he was given the largest house – a four bedroom, which he would share with Michonne, his kids, and Daryl. Glenn, Maggie and Tara would be next door, while Sasha, Tyreese, Carol and Father Gabriel shared a three-bedroom across the street. That left Eugene, Rosita and Abraham for the fourth home, next to them.

Douglas assured them that they were in the middle of an expansion, and once that occurred, there would be more houses for them to spread out. But they were so grateful for the space they'd been given, it was likely they would stay the way they were.

By 10:00, everyone was freshly showered and preparing to sit down to a late dinner in Rick's dining room. He thought it safest if they all slept in the same house the first night, just in case this did end up being some kind of a trap.

Meanwhile, Eugene had finally proven himself useful and spent most of his evening making spaghetti for the group. They'd been given a whole collection of fresh vegetables, so his tomato sauce was from scratch, and he even concocted some garlic bread out of a tin of biscuits. It was a more than welcome change of pace from the dry food they'd been consuming on the road.

"Something smells good," Michonne announced, sauntering her way down her new staircase. She smiled as she approached the mostly full table, as if she were in on a secret the rest of them weren't – and, well, she was. She pulled out a chair for Rick and Carl before sitting down.

They followed closely behind, Rick holding Judtih, and all three of them were startled as the group began a round of applause.

"Very funny," Rick laughed, knowing that their ovation was because he had finally trimmed his beard and cut his hair. He wasn't willing to cut it all off, but even he had to admit he had begun to look a little bit like a grizzly bear.

"Look at that pretty ass face," Abraham shouted teasingly.

"All right, all right," he pretended to accept their mocking praise. "Y'all are quite welcome."

"I almost forgot this is what you look like," Sasha joked with a wink. His shorter curls and stubble brought her back to the Rick she'd first met at the prison. "Michonne, you might wanna finally snatch that up."

"Now wait a minute," Rick protested. "I'm the exact same person I was yesterday."

"Yeah, but you look a lot better," Rosita piped up. "Like, I might even call you hot."

Even Judith seemed to like her dad's new look. As much as she seemed to enjoy playing in his old beard, she was much more engrossed with rest of his face now. "You ladies have no shame," Rick declared, discreetly winking at his wife as he took a seat at the head of the table. "Shall we eat?"

"Rick, if it's all right," Glenn interrupted, "I think we should say grace first."

"Okay…"

"I just think it's something Hershel would do."

Rick nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. That would be nice." He took Michonne's hand, Carl took Judtih's, and everyone followed suit until the entire table was connected with their heads bowed. "Go ahead."

"Father, we'd like to take this opportunity to thank You," Maggie was the one to begin. "Not only for this food, not only for this house, that may or may not be a death trap, but… for each other. We've been through a lot, and we've done some things that You'll probably never forgive us for, but through it all, You've allowed us to do this together. So we thank You for the opportunity to create a family after all of ours were long gone. Thank You for the ability to survive, to persevere, and after all this time, for the ability to hope. We do not take this for granted, Lord, and we will do our very best with this new life You've given us. Thank You… for the love around this table." She looked up to the rest of the group as she finished her prayer. "Amen."

Rick looked around the room, at the people surrounding him, the circumstances surrounding them. They were safe. They were together. Hell, they were in a home with lights, and hot water, and food in front of them. He thought they had it good at the prison, and this was… even better. This was the dream coming true, he realized. And indeed, he was thankful. "Amen."


	13. dinner party

**13: dinner party**

"You look  _amazing_ ," Rick announced, walking out of the bathroom to see his wife standing in the mirror, examining herself. She wore a long teal maxi dress that was stunning against her chocolate skin. The fabric hugged her body at all the right places, accentuating her ass and her growing cleavage. "Where'd you get that?"

She continued to study herself, unsure of how she felt about it. "Maggie and I went 'shopping' this morning in Kimberly's closet," she revealed with a shrug. "At least, I think her name is Kimberly."

"Well I'm gonna tell her thank you, because it's perfect on you."

"Not quite." She held the fabric against her stomach, trying to gauge whether it showed too much. "I look pregnant," she frowned.

He chuckled. "You are pregnant."

"Yeah, but I don't wanna look it."

He walked up behind her, resting his hands on her hips. "You don't look it." He kissed her bare shoulder and then the back of her neck. "You look amazing."

"You said that already," she smiled, resting her head against his chest. They made an attractive couple, she noticed, as she stared at their reflections. She'd never noticed before, having never stood with him in a mirror, but down to their heights and body types, they complemented each other well. "How much time do we have until this thing starts?"

"Not very long. Why?"

She began to slowly gyrate her backside against his crotch and gave him a devilish smirk. "Just wondering."

"We don't have time," he chuckled, giving her ass an affectionate smack. "Don't."

"You sure?"

His eyes closed and his grip on her hips tightened. "Seriously, we don't."

"All right, well… if you get bored at this party, you can just think of how I'm not wearing any panties. Let that sit on your mind." She then walked away to start on her makeup.

"You're cold, baby," he called after her.

"I'm quite hot, actually," she shot back from the bathroom.

He let out a hefty sigh, attempting to compose himself, and went on to find his tie. There was a knock at their bedroom door just as he completed his Windsor knot. Rick knew by the sound of the knock that it was Carl.

"Do I have to go to this?" he frowned when his dad answered the door. His blue eyes expressed every bit of boredom he expected to be at this so-called party.

"Well they're doing this for us, so yeah, I would say you need to show up."

"Why are they throwing us a party?" He walked into the room and exasperatedly plopped onto his parents' king-sized bed. "This is dumb."

"How is it any dumber than us having Christmas parties and game nights back at the prison?"

"We actually knew each other, Dad. We did that to spend time together."

"And they're doing this to welcome us to the neighborhood. It's the same thing; they'd like to get to know us."

"We didn't make anyone go to a welcome party when they came to the prison."

"Well, Carl, everybody's not gonna do the same things we do." He sat down next to his son and offered him a small smile. "Listen, it's been a week and nobody's tried to kill us. Let's just go as a show of gratitude."

He nodded, but he still didn't like it. "I need help with my tie."

"Oh, so you can tie a clove hitch, but you can't tie a tie," Rick smirked. "Go on and get it."

He hopped up energetically, off to find the tie he'd been given in his new collection of clothes. Just as quickly as he was gone, Judith came crawling into the room, having slowly followed after her big brother. They had been sharing a room until the fourth bedroom could be furnished with cribs, thereby making Carl her de facto babysitter. In turn, she followed him everywhere her little knees would carry her.

"Great job watching your sister!" Rick shouted after him sarcastically.

Michonne was retreating from the bathroom as the infant began to pass her by. "Well hi there, pumpkin," she cooed, picking her up from the floor. She was donning a brand new dress, striped in turquoise, pink, and yellow, with yellow shoes to match. "You're looking snazzy tonight, my dear."

Rick sat in awe, watching Michonne and Judith move towards him. He'd never seen her with makeup before, and it sparkled on her like the sun, stopping him in his tracks. "How the fuck did I get you to marry me?"

Her big brown eyes, trimmed in gold, narrowed at him in confusion. "What?"

"I just... can't believe you're mine."

"Well technically, I'm the one that suggested we get married."

"Yeah, yeah, all part of my plan," he grinned.

"Uh huh." She leaned in to give him a kiss as she handed over Judith.

"Oh, that's just gross," Carl made a face as he reentered their bedroom. "Get a room."

"I think we're in our room," Michonne shot back. She purposely gave Rick another kiss, longer this time, knowing it would disgust him further. "Say somethin'."

"I bet you this is a form of child abuse," he joked, shielding his eyes.

"You're lucky you weren't in here five minutes ago."

"Make it stop!" he was yelling.

"Shut up and get over here," Rick was laughing. "We need to be leavin' soon."

He handed his tie to his dad and watched while his sister crawled around the bed like a little ladybug. "So… is this gonna be our home, you think? Like, for good?"

"It's hard to say," Rick exhaled softly. "I don't want any of us gettin' too comfortable. There may be no Governor or Gareth, but there's always, always a threat looming, and I don't want us getting weak." He locked eyes with Michonne, as this was meant for her too.

"Good. Me neither," Carl replied seriously.

"But I also want you to enjoy your life, Carl. It's possible to be happy here and still be safe."

He nodded as his dad completed his knot. "I know."

"I need you to know that," he emphasized softly. "I feel like I'm always seesawing between scaring you to death and crippling you, but this life we live now? It's all about balance."

"I got it, Dad."

"All right," he grinned. "Take Judith and wait for us downstairs."

Michonne had been quietly listening to their exchange, feeling honored, as she always did, to be in on their father-son bonding. But she and Carl had their own connection, and she knew that he had something else on his mind. "Just a second there, cowboy. Why'd you ask if we're gonna be here for good?"

He stopped trying to pick up Judith and sat down between Rick and Michonne. "What do you mean?"

"I said what I mean," she mocked him. "Spill."

"Well…" His adorable 14-year-old face turned bright red as his baby blues averted the question. "I was just… thinking."

Rick was frowning as he waited for his son to speak his mind. He glanced up at Michonne and silently questioned her. "What are you doing," he mouthed to her.

She winked at him as she poked Carl's thigh. "Spit it out."

"Okay. There's this girl-."

"There it is!" she teased him excitedly. "I knew it."

"Okay. Yeah," he continued nervously. "I just thought, if we're gonna be here for a while, it would be cool if I maybe talked to her a little bit."

Rick had to stop himself from smiling uncontrollably. Carl had become so jaded, he wasn't sure he would ever experience anything close to having feelings for a girl, much less acting on them. "Who is this girl?"

"Her name's Jamie," he answered softly. "She's the other aide at the school with me."

Michonne had seen her walking home with Carl the day before. She was a cute little black girl, probably the same age as Carl, if not a little older. "She's James's daughter," she told Rick, knowing that he and her father had already shared a few laughs in passing. "She was out there smilin' at Carl when he came in the house yesterday."

"Were you watching me?" he was blushing.

"Of course I was."

"And I follow you over to the school in the mornings," Rick inserted. "So whatever move you're thinkin' about makin', just remember, we see you."

"I can't even tell whether you guys are serious," he shook his head.

"That's the point, son."

"I wonder if other people have normal parents…" It would've been the last thing in the world he actually wanted, but he liked to tease them as much as they did him.

"And what makes you think they'd want you?"

Carl stifled his laugh as he looked over at his dad. As much as he hated to admit it, he loved this side of him – playful and happy, open and available. It had been a long time since he could just sit and laugh with his family, even before the turn. It seemed that Michonne had freed his father in some strange way. He couldn't believe he was about to say it, but… "Seriously though, I'm really glad you guys are my family."

Touched, Rick pulled his kid into a headlock and kissed the top of his head roughly. "I guess we're glad to have you around, too."

* * *

"So Rick, how long is it that you've been on your own with your two kids?"

Rick looked up from his plate, a bit stunned by the question. The dinner party to welcome his group was underway, and things were going fine, but it had somehow turned into an interrogation to find out just how available their men were. Daryl and Tyreese were being questioned too, but Rick receiving the brunt of it, and he was not quite comfortable with it.

"I, um… I'm very lucky," he cleared his throat. "Everyone sitting here has helped me raise my kids since the very beginning."

"None of us are on our own," Carol confirmed with a nod, glancing over to him. She wasn't sure why he was acting so strange, but figured he probably just wasn't used to female attention anymore. "We're very close-knit."

The woman that had asked the question, Carrie, was nodding, but kept her eyes on Rick. She was an attractive woman, long blonde hair, warm hazel eyes. "That's nice." She flashed an immaculate smile his way before taking a sip of wine.

"Nothing more important than having people you can count on," Tyreese appended. "This road would've been a lot harder alone."

"Impossible," Carol agreed.

"Well we're really glad you all found us," another young woman, Olivia, joined in. "Nice to have some new, handsome faces around here."

Michonne rolled her eyes dramatically, catching Sasha snickering at her as she did. It was clear that both of them were past the point of boredom with the current conversation. "Kim, did I hear you say something about a movie night?"

Michonne had taken a liking to Kim – possibly because she was the only married woman under 40 around there. "Umm, yes," Kim glanced over to her, confused by the sudden switch. "Once a month, we do a matinee for the kids and then an evening thing for the adults. It's actually quite nice," she nodded.

"Most folks use it as a date night sorta thing," Olivia looked to Rick. "You probably haven't had time to consider dating, but now that you're in a safe space…"

"I think I'm good," he declined kindly. He smirked to himself when he felt Michonne kick his foot. "I'll keep that in mind, though."

"Oh, speaking of which," Carrie seemed to suddenly remember, "Rick, I was wondering what your favorite dish was. Or if there's anything you haven't had in a while that you'd like me to make."

He let out a laugh that he had to disguise as a cough when his wife kicked his foot a little harder this time. He wasn't sure why she was taking their inquiries out on him, but he found it funny, nonetheless. "You really don't have to do that, Carrie. I'm a very simple man, I don't need much at all."

"No, I'd really like to. You're the new sheriff here, and you take care of us, so I think it'd be nice if someone took care of you."

"I am very well taken care of," he smiled back at her. "But thank you."

"Rick, please. I hate knowing you come home to that big old house every night without a hot meal waiting for you."

Michonne had practically stomped on his foot now and that one hurt. "I couldn't ask you to do that," he croaked out.

"He likes barbecue," Michonne finally answered for him, curtly. "Spare ribs, pulled pork, brisket, mac and cheese. Not too much sauce, but it should be more tangy than sweet. Sweet tea, too, if you can swing it. Have at it." An awkward silence overtook their end of the table while everyone gazed at Michonne. "We talk about food a lot," she shrugged.

"Would you excuse us," Rick stood from his chair, signaling for Michonne to come with him. "We'll be just one…" His sentence trailed off into the air as he pulled her towards where the bathroom was located. He waited until they were out of earshot before he spoke. "We gonna do this all night?"

She frowned, unsure of what he could be referring to. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You've kicked me every time one of them says my name," he chuckled. "What's goin' on with you?"

"I want to strangle them," she answered honestly. "Amy, and Olivia, and especially that bitch, Casey."

"Carrie."

"Whatever," she waved dismissively. "That one might get my katana."

He really hated to laugh at a crazy pregnant woman, but she was not making it easy. "Baby…"

"I know how I sound, Rick, you don't have to say it."

"It's actually kind of adorable," he chuckled. "But don't be rude."

"I'm not being rude!" she whispered harshly.

"You and Sasha are about to roll your eyes out of your heads. And if I've noticed, other people probably have, too."

"Trust me, they're too far up your ass to worry about me or Sasha."

He quietly laughed at her obvious resentment. "Michonne Grimes, are you really jealous?"

She absolutely loved the sound of her full name on his lips. "Yeah, you keep laughin' at me." She smirked as she quickly ran her hand over his crotch and then held onto his belt buckle. She smiled in satisfaction when he flinched in reply. "You okay?"

"Shit," he exhaled uncomfortably. "I think we oughta get back to our seats..."

"Yeah, you're right." She purposely grazed his dick again and then turned around to head back to the table. "We can wait 'til we get home. In a few hours."

He quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her into the guest bathroom, careful not to slam the door in his fervor. He needed her then, and he didn't want to wait. He pulled her close, and she responded with a hungry kiss, smiling at the taste of him. He pulled down the front of her dress, carefully pulling her plump breasts into view as he sucked lightly at her soft nipples. She smiled at how delicate he was, despite the urgency she could feel in his groin. His cock was pressed against his zipper, causing an excited shiver to go down her spine.

Michonne pushed him onto the toilet seat and lifted her dress as he lowered his pants, both of them now naked from the waist down. She approached him with a sly smirk on her face, quickly straddling him, pleasantly surprised when his fingers brushed across her slit. He moved his hands to her ass, grunting softly as she guided him into her pussy.

She began to rock against him slowly, driving Rick crazy. "Fuck," he groaned into her skin. She moaned back in response, and he covered her mouth with his hand, realizing that silence was of the essence. The only sound in the room was their bodies, her pussy pounding against him, wanting him to be as deep inside as possible. The pleasure was becoming unbearable.

"I'm gonna scream," she breathed quietly.

"Don't," was all he could get out. He was at the edge of his own sanity.

The eruption in her core began to strike, and she slowed considerably, while Rick used his free hand to finger her clit. She bit her lip so hard, she would've sworn she drew blood, as he brought her to climax in a matter of seconds. "Jesus fuck," she hissed against his face. Her body felt like it was on fire. Before long, Rick was done for as well, unable to take any more of her slow grinding. She had a way with her hips that his mind didn't understand, but his body instinctively responded to. He came with a guttural grunt, shooting into her more forcefully than either of them were prepared for.

As the two of them recovered, he pushed her hair from her face, staring into her eyes tenderly. He didn't want her to move, he felt so comfortable and alive beneath her. "I love you," he stated softly.

She wiped at the sweat beads forming on his nose and offered a small smile. "I love you, too."

He sighed and kissed her chest one more time. "We should get back, though."

"We should." She reluctantly dismounted from her husband, letting her dress fall back into place as he pulled his pants back on. She almost couldn't believe they'd just done that with nearly 40 people sitting just a few feet away. "You're an awful influence, you know," she joked.

He stopped fixing his belt to look up at her, flabbergasted. "Me?"

"Yes, you."

"You're the one that came to this party with no panties on."

"You're the one that liked it."

He shook his head, laughing, checking his hair in the mirror before they left. Daryl had informed him that that was the main thing that always gave him away. "You ready to do this?"

She rolled her eyes at the thought of sitting with these people for another indeterminate amount of time. But none of those other women had what she had, which admittedly had her feeling a little smug. She grinned at her man and opened the bathroom door. "After you, officer."

The two of them returned to their seats as innocently as they could, which meant, of course, that they looked guilty as hell. But neither of them cared, as they goofily smiled at another as if they'd just figured out the secret to life.

"Quick announcement," Rick declared loud enough for the entire table to hear him. He pulled Michonne's hand towards him, interlocking their fingers so that they were tightly entwined. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as he made his statement. "Michonne and I are married." Amused, he watched her eyes widen in surprise, followed by a couple of gasps from those across from them. "This is my wife, and I am madly in love with her."

Michonne kept her eyes on Rick, too, understanding exactly what he was telling her. It was time to stop hiding their happiness. "And we're having a baby," she added contentedly. As it turned out, she actually had figured out the secret to life. It was in spending it with Rick Grimes.


	14. it's your birth day

**14: it's your birth day**

"Carl!" Michonne called for him as she held the front door open for their visitor, allowing her inside. "He'll be right out."

Jamie Barnes, their young, affable neighbor, who also happened to be Carl's girlfriend, smiled politely as she stepped inside the Grimes' household for what had to be the hundredth time. "Thank you, Mrs. Grimes."

Michonne headed back towards the kitchen, where she'd been finishing up the large meal she had prepared for the day. "I hate to make you work just because you're the first one," she directed to the teenager, "but could you do me a favor and open that door for me?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am." Jamie quickly moved to the back door, opening it up to the patio for Michonne. "Can I help you with anything else?"

Michonne picked up a large crockpot full of chili and waddled towards her. "If you could grab the bowls and start setting them up…"

"Sure," she nodded apprehensively. Something about the woman made her nervous, but she liked her a lot, and was eager to please. She quickly collected as many glass bowls as she could carry and followed Carl's mom to the patio.

Outside, Rick had already been in the backyard for nearly an hour, and Michonne joined him once she dropped off her chili. "Looking good," she noted, examining the pit he'd been working on.

He looked up at her, pleased with his work as well. "It's not as cold as I thought it'd be out here, but they'll have fun," he nodded. "And you should be wearing a jacket."

"Trust me, I'm hot out here," she sighed, wiping at her brow. "I feel like a giant ball of sweat."

He stood to give her a kiss on her forehead, turning just in time to see Carl come outside. "Hey, birthday boy."

"Hey, Dad," he called back in a voice deeper than Rick even wanted to acknowledge. "You wanted me, Michonne?"

"I was just letting you know Jamie was here."

He nodded and headed back inside, where his girlfriend was apparently helping to set up for his party. "You don't have to do that, you know," he informed her with a small smile. "My parents have it."

She looked up at Carl and shook her head. "Your mom is like eleven months pregnant and your dad just took down a bunch of those biters at the gates. You're the one that should be helping."

"Excuse you, but I cleaned this whole place from top to bottom this morning." He gave Jamie an awkward hug as he continued to argue his point. "And Michonne is only about eight months pregnant, so let's not get crazy."

"Carl…"

"Okay, okay, I'm helping." He grabbed the napkins and utensils to bring outside, only to find Rick and Michonne wrapped up in one another. He quickly diverted his eyes before he could figure out whether or not they were kissing. "You guys can't do this in front of people," he yelled.

"I think it's cute," Jamie was smiling at the older couple as she placed a large pan of cornbread next to the crockpot.

"You wouldn't if they belonged to you," he rolled his eyes. He headed into the yard to see what their new bonfire pit looked like.

"Your friends will be here soon, you might wanna start getting the chairs and blankets together," Rick told him as he approached.

"I thought you were doing all the work," Carl smirked.

"I most certainly am not," Rick quirked an eyebrow as he held onto Michonne's hand. "You can either do this, or you can go pick up your cake from Carol's."

"Can I take the golf cart?" his eyes brightened at the thought of being able to drive alone, even if it was just to the end of the block.

"You sure can't," Michonne replied with a shake of her head. "I don't know why you keep asking."

"What if Jamie comes with me?"

"That sounds like an actual disaster waiting to happen," Rick declined, beginning to help Michonne back towards the house.

"I'm a good driver."

"And you're an even better chair-mover, I bet."

As they returned inside, Jamie moved to join Carl in the grass. "Why on earth are you so difficult with them?"

"Because it's fun," he grinned. With his hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie, he looked around his yard in satisfaction. "This was a good idea you had, JB."

She smiled proudly, wrapping an arm around his nonexistent waist. "I always wanted to have a bonfire party, back before…"

"I don't think I was cool enough to have one back before."

"I find that hard to believe," she returned softly as her light brown eyes locked with his bright blue ones. That was exactly what she liked about Carl, he was always calm, cool, collected. He was much more mature than the other kids, even the ones older than him.

"Trust me," he chuckled. "You wouldn't have looked at me twice back in the old days."

"You never know. Maybe I have a thing for dorky white boys."

He smirked at the insult, as this was how Michonne teased his dad sometimes. "Very funny." He turned back to the house to make sure his parents weren't looking and gave Jamie a quick kiss on her cheek. "I like you, too."

Back inside, Michonne and Rick were puttering around the kitchen, readying the rest of the food for Carl's party. She shook her head as she watched the happy teenaged couple outside, attempting to be affectionate. She always thought Jamie to be very pretty - beautiful skin, the color of caramel, a slender face with almond shaped eyes of the same shade, and she always wore her curly black hair in an adorable puff at the top of her head. But she noticed Jamie was a good influence on him, too. She was a smart, thoughtful girl, that seemed just as engaged with her family as Carl was with his. They complemented each other well.

"He is so your kid," she smiled at Rick, seeing his son sneak a kiss to his girlfriend.

Rick stopped putting marshmallows on sticks to look outside with his wife. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means whatever you think it means."

He eyed her suspiciously and went back to his task. "Where did you find marshmallows, anyway?"

"Glenn got 'em on a run a few weeks ago. Said they were saving them for a rainy day."

Rick smiled, as only Glenn would be able to pull something like that off. "When are they gettin' here?"

"I told Maggie to bring Judith back around six, so I suppose they'll all come around then."

He nodded. "I know I don't have to thank you, but I'm gonna do it anyway," he told her seriously. "The amount of effort you've put into making this special for Carl... it means a lot."

"Rick... You really, really don't have to thank me."

"I wasn't sure he would get to celebrate another birthday. Not like this. Not to mention the fact that he was actually excited about having a party."

"Only because  _Jamie_  suggested it," Michonne smirked.

Rick chuckled quietly to himself. He would've done the exact same at Carl's age. "He's growin' up so fast," he sighed. "I don't even see a fifteen-year-old when I look at him."

"I knew the day I met him that he wasn't like the other kids. That's not necessarily a bad thing."

"No, it's not," he agreed. "I've needed him to be both an adult and a kid for a long time now and he's been up to the task. I'm just glad he can finally have some of his childhood back."

"Trust me, he knows exactly when and how to be a kid. Particularly, when it's time to mow the lawn, wash the dishes..."

"Can you even believe these are the things we worry about now?" he laughed. "That we have a house to take care of?"

"No, I really can't," she laughed too. "When the world ended, I never thought I'd be standing on the other side, married with almost three kids." As her thoughts wandered to how far she'd come, how far they'd come, tears formed in her eyes. "Goddamn it."

"Oh god." She had cried so much in her last trimester, it was becoming a running joke that she could clear a room with her tears. And indeed, Rick had grabbed the second crockpot and was out of the door before she could utter another word.

* * *

The sun was long gone and nice chill had washed over the mid-November night. Carl and Jamie, along with all their other friends, sat around the bonfire in the Grimes' backyard, enjoying roasted marshmallows under their blankets as they played a round of truth or dare.

Meanwhile, inside, the adults were having their card night, as they tended to do on Saturday evenings, switching houses from week to week. Michonne had chosen Spades as their game of the week, and there were three games going in the cozy living room of their home. The first game included the two hosts against Daryl and Sasha; then Maggie and Glenn against Abraham and Rosita; and finally, Carol and Tyreese battling their new friend Kim, and her husband, Adam.

It was turning out to be quite the lovely evening for them as well. Even if they didn't have a bonfire, their fireplace had a nice bit of warmth radiating from it, and Michonne had made a batch of hot chocolate from a few old Hershey bars, while the guys were enjoying beers along with their cornbread and chili. If a TV had been on somewhere in the house, the whole thing would've been indecipherable from the days before the turn.

"Hey Rick, did you ever finish up the nursery?" Sasha wondered as she shuffled through her hand. She remembered he and Daryl had been working on it before the expansion and the two of them ended up moving in together.

"Yeah, it's just about done," he looked up from his cards at her. "Michonne tried to convince me to just go ahead and paint it pink, but I don't know how much faith I have in her hunch," he chuckled.

"A woman's intuition is pretty strong," she argued, flashing a smile at the expectant mother.

"Yeah, well I'd like a second opinion before I spend an entire afternoon on that."

"Y'all got any names yet?" Daryl inserted curiously.

"I have a different name every day," Michonne rolled her eyes at her own indecisiveness. "It's ridiculous, really."

"We've been through every author she loves, every name in the Bible, every TV character," Rick shook his head with a tired smile. "I figure it'll just come to us when he or she gets here."

" _She_ ," Michonne corrected him.

"Well, if you need some help, Sasha is lovely name," Sasha grinned proudly. "And it means 'protector,' just in case you're into meanings."

"I thought you wanted us to name our baby Sasha," Maggie piped up from the table across from them.

The rest of them laughed as they realized Sasha was just putting her hat in every ring she could. "It didn't seem like you were very receptive to the idea, so..."

"You and Daryl oughta save it for your own kid," Michonne joked, looking over to Daryl with her big beautiful smile on display. She knew exactly how much he hated it when she teased him about their friendship.

"Ain't nobody havin' kids in our house," he mumbled back at her as he flicked a card to the pile in the middle of the table.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're just friends."

"But unlike when you and Rick said it, we actually mean it," Sasha answered for him. "We are just roommates."

"Uh huh."

"It is possible for two adults of opposing genders to have a totally platonic relationship, you know."

"Well," Rick chimed in, "there's Maggie and Glenn, Abe and Rosita, Carol and Tyreese, me and Michonne... it seems like we're proving that theory false."

"Y'all ain't got no self control," Daryl declared teasingly. "Don't put that on us."

Michonne looked up from where she was tallying the score and glared at Daryl. "Are you implying that Rick and I are only together because of sex?"

"Tell me that ain't how it started."

"If you must know, it started with a deep, emotional connection. We were both recovering from great loss, and maybe we weren't doing so great with it. But we saw salvation in one another. We saw an end to the loneliness. We saw how easily we communicated without any words at all," she explained passionately. "And that's how it started."

"That's beautiful," Sasha smiled.

"And the sex," Rick submitted, looking over to Daryl.

Michonne shot him a bird and a smile from across the table. "I'm not gonna forget this, Grimes."

"I'm positive you won't," he chuckled.

"I'm gonna tell you a secret," Sasha intimated, cheekily looking back and forth between the two of them. "When Carol first told us you guys were feeling each other, I _might've_  been a tiny bit jealous?"

They both looked at her, stunned. "Of who?" Rick laughed.

"Of Michonne," she replied as if it were obvious; as if any of them had any inkling that she ever liked Rick. "I might've had a tiny, insignificant, sliver of a crush on you? Maybe?"

Even Daryl didn't know that one, and he could read most people better than they could themselves. "Is that right?"

She nodded in feigned embarrassment. "It went away after a while, but I was lowkey heartbroken for, like, an afternoon."

"That is hilarious," Michonne was giggling at the information. "I was jealous of you for about a day, too."

"Me?"

She nodded. "Rick told me he was taking you on a run, and it was gonna be just the two of you."

"Oh yeah, I remember that one. Geez, that was almost a year ago," she marveled at how quickly time had flown. "That was when I noticed how much he liked  _you._ "

"Well I was sitting at the prison with Carl, hating every minute that you two were gone," she laughed at herself. "It was so silly, how mad I was at you."

"Our first time was the night before that, so she was understandably smitten," Rick noted with a cocky grin.

"You are really pushing it tonight," Michonne playfully warned him with widened eyes. "And how many books do you have?"

He gave her a wink and was about to start counting when Carl came into the house looking for his parents.

"We're out of food," he announced, surveying their tables for anything he could take back outside.

"Sounds like you're outta luck," Michonne smirked, noting how cold he looked, with his red cheeks and nose. "And where's your coat?"

"I'm fine," he shook his head. "We have our blankets."

"Y'all oughta be comin' in soon," Rick told him, glancing at their wall clock that read 10:20. "I told parents I'd have their kids home by eleven."

Carl nodded a bit disappointedly, but understood. The people in their neighborhood couldn't decide whether to be overly cautious or disturbingly nonchalant. His dad was helping them find a balance between the two. "I'll go get everybody."

"I should go get the cake together," Michonne nodded.

"Make sure you put that fire out with water," Rick reminded him as his son headed back towards the patio door. With a sigh, Michonne lifted herself from her chair to retrieve Carl's cake, but Rick immediately stopped her. "I can do the cake," he hopped up. "You sit down."

"Rick, I'm not handicapped."

"Yeah, but you've been on your feet all day-"

"And so have you," she shot back before he could go on.

"I'm not pregnant."

"Yeah, but you're old," she stuck her tongue out, beginning to waddle to the kitchen.

"She hangs out with Carl too much," he told the rest of their table with a shake of his head, following after her.

She had removed the top of the cake plate to reveal a beautiful two-tier chocolate cake, covered in icing of the same flavor. "Has Carol been hiding chocolate from me all this time?"

"I'm not sure if 'hiding' is the word I would use," he chuckled, locating the candles in one of their junk drawers. He moved behind her, enveloping her in his arms, leaving a soft kiss on her cherubic face. He didn't care if everyone there was watching, he simply wanted her all the time. "You look so beautiful tonight," he whispered.

She smiled to herself, aware of just how lucky she was to have a husband that told her she was beautiful, even at her sweaty, bloated, trapped gassy worst. She still felt sexy in his arms, which amazed her. She swiped a small dollop of the chocolate from the plate and licked some of it from her finger, offering the rest to Rick. He happily accepted, his lips holding onto her finger with a gentle suck for a little longer than necessary.

"Just nasty," she shook her head in amusement.

He added the candles to the cake as she moved to wash her hands, and all of the kids came bursting into the house. "All right, the gang's all here," Rick declared, leading them all to the living room, where the adults were situated.

He set the cake down, lighting its candles while everyone allowed Carl, followed by Jamie, to the center of the group. Rick and Michonne stood on either side of them, watching proudly, and Carol entered the room with a sleepy Judith just as they all broke out into a chorus of the Birthday Song.

As they were rounding the corner from the third ' _Happy birthday to you_ ,' Michonne found herself standing in a small puddle. No one else seemed to notice, as her long dress covered most of the spill, but she definitely felt like she had just peed on herself. "Shit," she whispered quietly.

Carl heard her, though, beneath the loudness of their family and friends, and looked over to her worriedly. "What's wrong?" he mouthed.

She was frowning, and as much as she didn't want to alarm him, she had to say something. "My water just broke."

* * *

After a lot of commotion at the Grimes' house, Rick and Carl were finally able to get Michonne to the infirmary at the front of the Safe Zone. They'd actually been sitting there for hours now, helping her through contractions, eating ice chips, and generally doing everything they could to avoid the fact that the three of them were scared to death.

They had been in close contact with the resident doctor, Dr. Cloyd, for the entire time they'd been in Alexandria, and she assured them that things were going to be fine. But that didn't help their terror. Rick was doing his best to stay calm, mainly for Carl and Michonne, but inside, his heart was beating out of his chest. Carl, meanwhile, couldn't sit still - he paced around the large room as if he had ants in his pants. And Michonne, who was arguably the most collected of them all in most situations, was jittery whenever she wasn't in the midst of a contraction.

"Carl, you have to sit down. You're making me nervous."

"You're making me nervous," he shot back, agitated. "Why are you shaking?"

"Carl," Rick cut in tersely. "Sit."

With a loud sigh, he sat on the other side of Michonne's bed and stared at the wall. "Does it always take this long?" Even worse than the thought that Michonne was about to die was the anticipation of it. It was torture in its rarest and sickest form.

"Your mother was in labor for twenty-two hours with you," Rick informed him. "I guarantee you, you have the easy part."

"That's an entire day!" he nearly shouted. "Why would anyone do that?"

Michonne looked at him as if he were every bit as insane as he sounded. "Gonna go out on a limb and say she didn't have a choice."

"Seriously? Twenty-two hours?"

"Andre only took four," she supplied, glaring at him. "Maybe it depends on how difficult the kid is."

Rick snorted to himself. "You can go back home if you want, Carl. We can handle it."

"No," he returned adamantly. "We're a family. We do this as a family."

_We sure as hell get on each other's nerves as one_ , Michonne thought to herself. She let out a shaky sigh as she laid back in her bed. "Is there anymore ice?"

Rick examined the plastic bowls beside him and shook his head. "I'll go get you some more."

"I'll do it," Carl offered quickly. He was gone from the room before his father could decline.

"He's driving me crazy," Michonne looked over to Rick calmly, in total contradiction of the words she spoke. "I'm going to strangle him."

"He's nervous," Rick defended quietly, looking down at the tiled floor. "He's not used to that."

"I'm not either."

"It's gonna be fine."

"You have no idea whether that's true," she knew. He wasn't fidgeting, but the look on his face said everything he was feeling.

"How do you feel?" his eyes narrowed at her questioningly.

"Okay, I guess," she shrugged.

No sooner than the words escaped her lips, another contraction went tearing through her body and she let out a low scream as she reached blindly for Rick's hand. He was quick to oblige, allowing her to squeeze as hard as she needed to until the pain subsided. He kept an eye on his watch, noting that this one was lasting over a minute, and she looked to be in excruciating agony.

As Carl returned to the room with her bowlful of ice, Rick sent him right back out. "Tell Dr. Cloyd her contractions are getting longer."

He immediately dropped the bowl and followed orders as Michonne's pain finally began to lessen. She started to quiver again as her breathing returned to normal. "Rick, I am so fucking scared," she admitted out loud and to herself. "If anything happens and you have to choose between me and the baby…"

"Shh." He still held onto her hand, bringing it to his lips to cover in kisses. "Don't talk like that."

"I have to."

"You don't have to say it," he assured her somberly. As a parent, he knew his only job in the world was to keep his kids alive. He knew that she knew that too.

Tears were running down her face as she came to the realization that these could be her final moments on Earth. It was a very real possibility that she could die having this baby.

"Please don't cry," he pleaded, wiping her face with the thumb of his free hand. "We're gonna be fine."

She nodded, but continued to cry silently. She simply couldn't help it.

The door to their room swung open and in walked their doctor. Denise Cloyd, in all their meetings, seemed like a capable doctor, very smart, and had a warm bedside manner, which they were thankful for, seeing how beggars couldn't be choosers. A sense of calm washed over the room when she entered. "Okay, how's my favorite couple doing?" she smiled at both of them.

"They're getting closer together," Rick informed her nervously. "And longer."

"And more intense?" she asked Michonne.

"That last one…" She shook her head as she wiped at her face, still reeling from the pain.

"Those are hopefully good signs," Dr. Cloyd nodded, taking a seat at the foot of Michonne's bed. She pulled on a pair of gloves as Carl joined the three of them, as well as Dr. Cloyd's assistant, Heath. "You got everything sterilized?" she asked her assistant.

"All ready," he nodded confidently.

The doctor began to examine Michonne, happy to find that she was fully dilated and likely ready to go. "You guys ready to have a baby?" she looked up to the family.

The three of them looked amongst one another hesitantly. It wasn't like they had a choice in the matter, but if they could have prolonged the moment, they certainly would have.

"Carl, you really don't have to stay," Michonne offered for him one more time. "I would totally understand."

He shook his head again. He thought he didn't want to be there for it, but if the situation was reversed and his life was the one in danger, Michonne would have been right by his side. "We're a family," he reminded her.

She smiled at him proudly and then looked up at Rick. "This is it," she sighed.

He still hadn't let go of her hand, and now, he gave it an encouraging squeeze. "This is it," he repeated in agreement.

Dr. Cloyd offered a reassuring smile to the family and began to pull a table full of tools towards their bed. "You guys will probably wanna stay above her waist," she joked, hoping to ease their obvious tension.

Carl frowned at the suggestion. "Why?"

"Just trust her," Rick told him with a small smile.

"All right, Rick, you've been through this before. Hold her hand, keep her calm, be encouraging. You know the drill," Dr. Cloyd coached him from behind her surgical mask. "Carl, I need you wiping her face, okay? No sweat, no tears. And Michonne, we'll do all the work down here. Sound good?" The three of them nodded. "Good."

Michonne closed her eyes and waited for the doctor's instructions.

"Michonne, on three, I need you to push."

"Okay."

"One. Two. Three."

Michonne silently used all of her might to push her baby through, feeling an almost blinding pain as she attempted to propel the new life forward. It felt like someone had taken a knife and was slicing at her pelvis. "Fuck!" she yelled when she knew she couldn't go any further.

"All right, hold on for me a sec."

Dr. Cloyd was calm, but when she called Heath over, Michonne knew that something was wrong. "What is it," she demanded.

Rick could feel it too, the pain Michonne was in, followed by the look on the doctor's face. "Please just tell us."

"No need to panic," she promised them. "But I do need you to stop pushing. The baby is in a breech position right now." Instead of the head, she could clearly see the buttocks coming down first. It wasn't an impossible situation, but for their limited tools and her limited experience, it certainly wasn't ideal.

Michonne could feel the tears stinging the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let them come out. She needed to be strong here – for her baby, for Rick, and for Carl. As much as she wanted to break, this was the moment she had to do the exact opposite. She looked at her husband regretfully, silently begging him to forgive her for what she was about to say. "I need you to take Carl out of here," she told him softly.

"What?" he glanced back at her in disbelief. There was no way he was leaving.

"Please," she kept her eyes on him, letting him know she was not wavering in this. "I won't let this happen to him again."

"Michonne…"

"We put our kids first," she reminded him solemnly. "Not again."

Rick's blue eyes immediately reddened and were wet with tears, and he so badly wanted to argue, but it certainly wasn't the time or place. If this was what she needed, if this was what she thought Carl needed, his job was to make that happen. He kissed her forehead gently, staring into her eyes, and then studying her face. He had no idea what was on the other side of this, but he desperately needed to believe he would see her again, so he didn't say any words that would feel like a goodbye. He and Carl simply left.


	15. you are the best thing

**15: you are the best thing**

" _They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered." – F. Scott Fitzgerald_

* * *

The Grimes home was silent as a grave. It was so quiet, in fact, that the sound of snowflakes falling to the ground was almost loud. The stillness of 5:00 am had overtaken practically their entire house – everywhere but Rick and Michonne's bedroom.

Michonne awoke to the sound of Rick humming softly as he swayed in circles near their bathroom. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, but she realized that he was holding Judith in his arms.

"What the hell are you doing?" she whispered, amused, but confused.

He stopped humming his favorite Kings of Leon song long enough to answer his wife. "We're dancing, obviously."

"Why are you doing it in the middle of the night?"

"Au contraire, my dear. It's five in the morning," he corrected her as he stroked Judith's hair. "This is what time we wake up."

She shook her head, tickled by his southern-glazed French, and turned on their bedside lamp to get a good glimpse of them. As sleepy as she was, she never passed up an opportunity to see Rick bonding with his daughter. Judith was so in love with him, it stopped Michonne's heart every time she saw them like this. She grabbed the Polaroid camera she'd found while rummaging through the house one day and quickly snapped a shot of the two of them.

"The amount of pictures you take with that thing, you're gonna have a book soon," Rick noted as he came and sat down on the bed with her.

"Maybe that's the point," she smirked, focusing her attention on Judith. She left the picture on their nightstand and softly took hold of one of her feet, covering it in little kisses as she giggled. "Merry Christmas, ladybug."

Rick grinned as Judith wriggled happily in his arms. "Merry Christmas to you," he told Michonne.

"Merry Christmas, baby." She smiled warmly at him as she began to play with the tips of his fingers with her own. He had beautiful hands, she always thought, even despite all the filth he put them through. They were strong and masculine, always holding onto her exactly the way a man should hold a woman. She leaned in and gave him a quick but passionate kiss – a kiss that meant to thank him for being the man that he was. She was sure to give him one every single day.

Judith made sure to follow suit and covered Rick's face in her version of a kiss, which was really just her putting her lips on him and blowing. "Look what you've started," he laughed, wiping her spit from his cheeks.

"Can't fault a girl for loving a good guy," Michonne shrugged with a long yawn. "I will fault her for waking up this early, though."

"You should go on back to sleep."

"I'm fine," she began to yawn again but shook it off before it came all the way out. "I said I was gonna wake up early anyway to do the gifts."

"I finished wrapping everything before I came to bed," he informed her, knowing she'd be pleased. "Except for Carl's. Couldn't find a big enough bow."

"Teamwork," she smirked tiredly. "Thank you."

He and Judith stood from their seat, Judith taking off for the door as soon as he set her down, while Rick tucked his wife back into bed. "You barely get enough sleep as it is, go on and get a little more rest."

"I really am fine," she declined in a tired moan, turning her body towards him. "She'll be awake soon. No point in getting comfortable."

He could tell that Michonne was already was quite cozy, despite her logic, but gently rubbed her arm, willing her back into her slumber. "I got this one."

"No..." Her protests were futile, though, as she had already fallen back to sleep.

Rick chuckled at how easily she had drifted away.  _If only Judith were that simple_ , he thought. He quietly moved out of the room to find his daughter, seeing that she had taken to Carl's room, most likely to wake him up in some torturous fashion. Rick supposed she was done with her dad for the time being, so he headed back down the hall to the nursery, where his youngest was fast asleep.

_Baby_  
_It's been a long day baby_  
_Things ain't been goin' my way_  
_You know I need you here to clear my mind  
_ _All the time_

Bellamy Grimes was her name, and after a very difficult delivery, she came roaring into the world on November 12th, a day after her big brother's 15th birthday.

She was a tiny little thing, and nearly as pale as her father when she arrived, but she had all ten fingers and toes, striking blue eyes, and a mass of curly black hair covering her head. Rick couldn't figure out whether he was relieved or in love when he walked into the infirmary and saw his wife and his new daughter sitting there. He quickly figured out it was the latter.

It took them less than a minute to settle on the name Bellamy once Rick suggested it. Michonne liked it because they could call her Bell for short, and Bell Hooks was one of her favorite authors. But Rick had chosen it because it was Michonne's, and nothing felt more appropriate than for this child, indisputably a piece of both of them, to take both of their names. He felt a strong surge of pride wash over him the second she nodded in agreement.

Now, he stood in her room, that he wished he had listened to Michonne and painted pink, watching his littlest one in her peaceful slumber. She was so precious, he thought, with her tiny hands that could barely wrap themselves around his thumb. Her skin had darkened a bit, to a light tan, making her eyes pop even more than they did when she was born. He gently ran a hand over her hair, reveling in how soft everything about her was. She was perfect – much like her mother.

_And baby_  
_The way you move me, it's crazy_  
_It's like you see right through me and make it easier  
_ _Believe me, you don't even have to try_

"Hard to believe it's been six weeks already," Michonne lamented from the doorway, watching Rick watch Bellamy.

He looked up, happy to hear her voice. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

"I told you I don't like sleeping without you. That's why I always wake up when you're not there." She padded towards their daughter's crib, standing with Rick to take a look at her. She did this several times a day and never tired of her angelic face. "She looks like you," she told him with a contented sigh.

He thought she looked like Michonne, with her round face and heart-shaped lips. And when she was awake, she would stare at them as if she knew things about them that they didn't know themselves.

"Did you see it was snowing outside?"

"I didn't even notice," he whispered as he traced his finger along Bell's skin. "This'll be the first white Christmas I've ever had then."

"Seriously?"

He tried to think of Christmases past, but it was much more likely to be warm in Georgia than to get any snow in December. "I think so."

"You're in for a treat then," she grinned. "It's a beautiful sight."

He smiled at the thought, but he was used to those by now. "You're a beautiful sight."

"Oh god." She suddenly felt bashful, knowing what a mess she must've looked, having been up half the night, tending to the baby. "Why are you like this?"

"Like what?"

"Perfect."

He pulled her into him by her waist, leaving a tender kiss at the top of her head. "If that's true, it's only because you are."

She held onto his waist as well, enjoying the feeling of being close to him. It was her favorite space, right there in his arms. She closed her eyes, taking in the moment. "Can you promise me somethin', Rick?"

"Depends on what it is, I guess."

"Promise me we'll be together 'til we're ghosts."

He smiled widely at her choice of words, still staring down at their baby girl. "I think I can do that."

_Oh, because you are the best thing_  
_You're the best thing_  
_You are the best thing_  
_You're the best thing baby  
_ _You are the best thing to ever happen to me_

* * *

"Michonne," Carl called into the living room from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"

She had been sitting in the living room with Judith and Bellamy, reading to the younger, while the older occupied herself with her new toys. Rick and Carl insisted that she not enter the kitchen until they were done, and she was so exhausted, she didn't have to do much to oblige their request.

When she finally did enter the dining room, cradling Bell, she was pleasantly shocked to be met with a full spread – roasted chicken, mashed sweet potatoes, grilled zucchini and corn, and macaroni and cheese, with eggnog and hot tea to drink. They had even set the table. "Wow," she marveled.

"Merry Christmas," Carl beamed proudly at his gift to her. "And don't let my dad fool you, I did most of this myself."

"Yeah, everything except actually get the food and cook it," Rick joked, hoisting Judith into her high chair. "Carl, help Michonne into her seat."

He quickly pulled out a chair for her and his youngest sister before moving to fix her a plate.

"Oh, this is full service too?" she noted happily. "I could get used to this."

"You should be already," Rick retorted with raised eyebrows. He left a quick peck on her cheek as he took his seat at the other end of the table.

Rick did tend to wait on her, hand and foot, whenever he was home, and it did not go unappreciated. "I'm sorry baby, I meant from this one," she nodded towards Carl.

He filled her plate with everything on the table and placed it in front of her. "Hey, I've been helping."

"You're right, you have," she conceded. "Since Bell got here, I haven't had to ask you to do anything."

"Thank you," he grinned in satisfaction. "I was even gonna start shoveling the snow after dinner."

"Oh, now you're just lying," Rick laughed as he prepared Judith's plate. He was shredding chicken and separating the macaroni into pieces small enough for her to eat with her hands. "Should we say grace?" he looked to Michonne.

"Yeah," she frowned in realization that they hadn't said one in months. And God knows they had a lot to be thankful for. "We should."

"Carl, why don't you do the honors?"

"Me?" he looked up from his plate with widened blue eyes. "I don't know what to say."

"Say whatever comes to mind," Michonne encouraged him. "Whatever it is you're thankful for."

He thought about it for a moment, looking around the table at his family. He lived in constant, albeit latent, fear that he would lose them, that this would all be taken away from them somehow, just like with the prison. But it still hadn't happened. In fact, his family was growing, and he'd begun to feel safer than ever, which was astounding, considering their circumstances.

"Okay," he nodded as he decided what he was going to say. His parents bowed their heads, but he kept his eyes on Judith as he spoke. "Thank you, whoever you are. God. Karma. The universe. Not so much for the food on this table, although we do appreciate that, but for the people at it. Thank you for letting them be in my life, thank you for giving them to me." His eyes moved over to Rick, who seemed to be smiling as he listened. "When all this started, when I thought my dad was dead, and me and Mom were just trying to make it from one day to the next… I won't lie, I didn't have a lot of faith in the outcome. I didn't think we would be alive much longer. But then you gave me my family back. Dad came back, and you gave me Judith, and then Michonne, and now Bell." He smiled to himself as he gazed to their newest addition. "I don't know why you took my mom, or why you brought the dead back to life, or... anything really. But I do know when I'm ahead, and I'm chalking this up to a win. So thanks, whoever you are."

* * *

That night, after dishes were washed and a rousing game of Monopoly ensued, the Grimes family retired to the master bedroom to top off their Christmas night together. They had been having lazy conversation, but were slowly falling asleep a the minutes passed. Carl was laid haphazardly between his parents with Judith sleeping beside him, holding onto Michonne's pajama pants. And Bellamy was cuddled comfortably against Rick's chest, where he laid on the other side of the bed.

Michonne looked at her sleepy family and smiled to herself. This was it. This was the life she had imagined, back when things were normal. A home full of kids and laughter and love, and a partner to share it all with – someone that loved her, that protected her, but also needed that same love and protection in return. She had given up that dream long ago, because when the world ended, there was no point in dreaming anymore. But somehow, miraculously, she had arrived.

_Baby_  
_We've come a long way baby_  
_You know I hope and I pray that you believe me  
_ _When I say this love will never fade away_

"I forgot, I have another gift for you," she realized as she sat staring at her husband. They had exchanged their presents already – he gave her a new cat sculpture to replace the one she lost back at the prison, as well as some of her favorite books to start off her new bookshelf. And she'd given him a collection of the Polaroids she had taken of the kids since they'd been in Alexandria. But there was one more small offering that she wanted to share with him. She moved stealthily out of the room and returned a few minutes later with an opened bottle of champagne and a smile.

"Really?" he grinned, lifting himself carefully so as not to wake any of the kids.

"I came across it while I was Christmas shopping," she explained with a small shrug.

"You drinkin' too?" he hoped, though he knew it was a long shot considering she was breastfeeding.

She nodded. "I'll just have to pump and dump."

Happily, the two of them left the room with Bellamy, quietly making their way into her nursery, where Rick gently laid her in her crib. He then took a seat in the large easy chair in the corner, near the window, where they had a perfect view of their snow-covered backyard. "Get over here," he whispered, offering a hand to help her into the seat with him.

She took position in his lap, handing him the champagne as she rested her head against his chest. "After you, love."

With one hand holding her waist, he used the other to lift the bottle to his lips, taking a long pull from the opening. He let out a long exhale as the cool liquid moved through his body, lightening his already good mood. "This really brings me back to the beginning."

She smiled and accepted the champagne from him. "Well that was the point."

He softly kissed her neck from behind as she took her sip. He couldn't believe that where they started, the previous Christmas, had brought them there. "Thank you."

"For what?"

_Oh, because you are the best thing_  
_You're the best thing_  
_You are the best thing  
_ _You're the best thing baby_

Like Carl, he had a lot to be thankful for. For their home, their family, their safety. Being in Alexandria had given him the opportunity to serve and protect again, and he took that seriously. He took it as an honor, really, because looking out for his community meant looking out for his family. And in the year that had passed, he'd done a lot of questioning himself about whether he was capable of actually doing that. After what happened at the prison, he stopped trusting himself for a while. But Michonne wouldn't allow him to do that, she wouldn't let him fall apart. She championed him, she walked beside him through those gates of Hell. She saved him.

"Thank you for today. For every day. For you." He kissed her again, this time on her cheek, and then the side of her lips. "You're my best friend, Michonne."

Her smile grew to the width of her face, as she remembered saying the exact same thing to him at Maggie and Glenn's wedding. It was more true now than it ever was. And there was something in the way he moved her, she knew it would stay that way forever. "I love you, too, Rick."

_You are the best thing that ever happened to me_

-End

* * *

_Lyrics: "You Are the Best Thing" – Ray LaMontagne (Gossip in the Grain)_


End file.
